Nightmares
by Dita
Summary: Sinbad is stricken by terrible visions. Someone needs his help. Will he reach her in time? Nov 27 Chapter 14 is up! UPDATE: JAN31 I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS FIC! I AM TRYING TO FINISH IT BUT I AM SLIGHTLY BUSY. THANKS FOR WAITING!
1. Chapter 1

Sinbad woke with a start. Sweat poured down the sides of his face. He wiped at the droplets as he struggled to sit up in bed. Two weeks now… for two weeks his dreams had become progressively worse. He hadn't slept well in that entire time, and the stress was starting to show in his face. He got up and took a swig of water from his flask. He needed some fresh air he decided. He grabbed his pants from the chair they were hanging on and put them on. His hand went to the white shirt lying beside it, but he changed his mind. His chest and back were moist with sweat and the dry warmth of the Mesopotamian night air might feel nice he decided. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he exited his cabin and made his way up on deck.

Doubar was manning the tiller tonight, and Sinbad went over to greet his big brother.

"Can't sleep Little Brother?" Doubar asked in concern. It was obvious to the entire crew that their Captain was not in the best of shape these days.

"Seems that way Doubar. I just can't seem to shake these visions." He replied. As this was not the first time Sinbad had lost sleep over his dreams, Doubar was already aware of the source of the problems.

"Still the same dream?" He asked out of curiosity. Sinbad had confided only in his brother that he was having a repeating dream that was causing him some anguish.

"It's always the same Doubar. And always incomplete." He sighed in frustration. "I think someone is trying to contact me. Asking for my help. This girl in my dreams… I need to help her." He looked to Doubar for his opinion.

"But Little Brother, it's just a dream. And you said yourself that you can't even see the child's face. How will you ever find her? And what makes you so sure she even exists?"

"I know Doubar, I know. I can't explain it. I just feel it. I know I'm supposed to do something, but I don't know what." He looked lost.

"Little Brother, I think you've been spending far too much time with the Lass. You're starting to sound like her, and it's giving me the willies!"

Sinbad chuckled at that. "Sorry Doubar, I'll try to limit my interactions with Maeve for the next little while." Both men began laughing, knowing all too well how impossible it was to avoid anyone on a ship the size of the Nomad.

"But in all honesty Sinbad, I think you are reading too far into this whole dream thing. I mean, you are so used to playing the hero that it has finally slipped into your dreams. Just try to relax a little, and get back to sleep."

"Maybe you're right Doubar," Sinbad said while shaking his head. "I'm just overreacting." He laughed again. "I MUST be talking to Maeve too much!"

Their laughter was cut short by the creak of the hatchway. Someone else was coming up on deck.

"By all that is holy, does no one sleep anymore?" Doubar demanded. "Because if that's the case, I'd love to switch shifts with whoever wants to stay awake."

"Doubar?" a soft voice questioned as Maeve's red mop peered around the corner at the two brothers. "And Sinbad?" She stated, a little more than surprised to see the Captain up at this hour. She climbed the small set of stairs and approached the men.

"Maeve, what are you doing up?" Sinbad asked, knowing he wouldn't get an honest response from her anyway.

"Just felt like some air" she responded. The brothers exchanged knowing glances. If Maeve was up on deck in the middle of night for some air, something must have gotten her senses tingling. Doubar found himself wishing that his little brother actually told Maeve about his dreams, so that maybe she could put his mind at ease. Doubar made a mental note to speak to Sinbad about it as Maeve gestured towards the tiller saying to Doubar, "Night shift?" with a sympathetic look.

"You got it girl," Doubar grunted as he repositioned his hold on the tiller.

"I guess being the Captain's brother doesn't get you special treatment around here huh?" she asked of no one in particular.

"Not on my ship," Sinbad cut in with a flash of his most charming smile.

Maeve turned to examine her Captain at that point. She couldn't help but notice his lack of appropriate attire. And the sight of his bare chest was giving her some rather inappropriate thoughts. In addition to that, she couldn't help but notice his disheveled appearance. And she knew it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd just left his bed. His hair was a mess and he looked like he'd had a rough night. As she continued her appraisal, Sinbad was acutely conscious of the heat of her gaze. Inwardly he cursed himself for not putting on his shirt. He felt the heat in his loins rise as her gaze drifted over his entire appearance, ending when blue eyes met brown. He gulped.

"Bad date?" she joked after her assessment of his appearance had ended.

"Very funny Maeve" he replied to the sound of Doubar's deep chuckle.

Doubar enjoyed being witness to private exchanges between his brother and the sorceress. They were always entertaining. And endlessly stubborn. He had seen the way Maeve had looked at Sinbad, and was aware of Sinbad's discomfort. He smiled. Maeve was good for Sinbad; kept him in line; kept him on his toes. She was exactly what Sinbad needed in a woman… intelligent, brave, strong, independent, useful, bold and of course… beautiful. They were equals. He knew they would eventually see it as well. The sound of bickering brought Doubar back to the present moment.

"Now you two, don't let the heat of the night get you all worked up," he commented. Earning himself twin glares from the couple in front of him.

"You must be joking," Sinbad stated.

"Or daft," Maeve offered.

"You two sure are defensive," Doubar laughed, knowing he had struck a nerve. He had long since recognized that Maeve and Sinbad's bickering was merely a cover for the emotions they both tried to hide so well. Both afraid to admit they cared, finding it easier to pretend they didn't care at all.

"I think I've had enough fresh air," she suddenly offered and turned abruptly to return below deck. "Goodnight Doubar," she called pleasantly over her shoulder. She made a point of not addressing Sinbad. The men exchanged looks, Doubar raised his eyebrows.

"Have a GOOD NIGHT MAEVE!" Sinbad raised his voice louder than necessary at her retreating back.

At the last moment before she disappeared around the corner she turned and flashed Sinbad a sultry smile, "Sweet dreams Sinbad" she teased him lightly. And with that she disappeared.

Sinbad's jaw hung a bit loose after that comment, and it took the rumblings of Doubar's chuckle to pull him back to the present.

"I think I've had enough air as well," Sinbad stated while thumping his brother on the shoulder for laughing so much.

"But will you be able to sleep any better?" he smiled at the younger man.

"Doubar…" Sinbad threatened in his 'Captain Voice' as he shook his head and began to leave. Doubar's laughter followed him.

"Little Brother," Doubar managed to pull himself together for a moment to speak, "I think you should talk to the lass about these dreams. It's been going on for two weeks now," He reminded his brother. "If there's an element of magic to it, she might be able to help."

"Thanks for the advice Doubar, but…" Sinbad began to say that he'd rather marry Rumina, but was cut off by his Big Brother's next statement.

"Well if you won't tell it to her privately for whatever childish reasons you have, maybe we should all talk about it tomorrow, you know, Firouz, Rongar and Maeve. Together we might all figure something out. It can't hurt to try. And maybe you'll finally get some rest."

Sinbad chose to ignore his brother's accurate insult about his reasons for not speaking to Maeve directly. The truth was, he had wanted to speak to her about the dreams for sometime now, but could not imagine how he would start that conversation. He liked Doubar's alternative and stated, "You're right Doubar, I'll tell them all tomorrow. Once again, I bow to your wisdom." Sinbad saluted his first mate and headed below to make use of the last few hours of night.


	2. Chapter 2

The next evening found Doubar, Rongar, Firouz and Maeve all assembled in the small cargo hold as Sinbad had requested of them. Dermott sat on a barrel beside the quartet. None but Doubar were aware of the reason for this assembly, and each were interested, concerned and worried about its meaning.

Sinbad paced in front of them, not sure how to begin. Finally Doubar cut in and said, "Out with it already Little Brother!"

"Alright, alright," he conceded. "I've called you all here today to… well… I suppose just to get your thoughts on something. For sometime now, I've been having a very peculiar dream, which until now I had only told Doubar about." Three sets of accusing eyes turned towards Doubar for apparently harbouring information. "None of that," Sinbad defended his brother, "I asked him not to say anything."

"Well what is this dream about that has you coming to us for advice?" Firouz questioned, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer or not.

"I'm not quite sure myself Firouz," Sinbad admitted. "But it's about a girl, a very young girl, who is in trouble."

Rongar made a flurry of signs to Firouz. Firouz nodded and stated, "I agree with Rongar, it seems likely that you would have that kind of dream, given what you do for a living."

"But it's different than that right Sinbad?" Doubar pushed his brother to keep talking.

"Quite different. It feels as though it's not just a dream. Like it's actually happening. The girl is real, I know it. And she isn't someone I've helped in the past. I think I need to find her before my dream comes true."

"So you're saying that you're having premonitions now?" Maeve commented with an eyebrow raised. Premonitions were usually her department. She also thought it was odd that Sinbad would suddenly start sensing things that she herself was not picking up on. Although she had to remind herself, her dreams of late had been preoccupied with other matters.

"I don't know Maeve," he confessed. This was starting to feel like a trial to which he held none of the answers. "But I can feel that she's real, and I have to help her. She's so lost and scared," he added.

"Maeve, do you sense any evil forces at play on the ship that might be poisoning my brother's dreams?" Doubar asked Maeve directly. It was a question he had been wanting to ask her himself.

"I sense no evil onboard Doubar," she replied honestly. Moving to stand behind Sinbad she raised both hands and closed her eyes, trying to pick up anything out of the normal in his aura. Opening her eyes again she stated, "Nothing. Whatever this is, it isn't leaving a trace."

"Sinbad," Firouz cut in, "perhaps now would be a good time for you to describe this girl to us, and maybe tell us as much as you can see from your dream. It might help us to identify her and find her," he suggested.

It was a great idea, and all eyes focused on Sinbad who yet again began to look confused. How would he be able to explain this to them? "I don't know what she looks like," he stated.

"Ah, I get it, it's all faded out? Like in a fog?" Firouz queried.

"No, it's all perfectly clear," Sinbad began but was cut off by Rongar motioning to his face.

"Is it just her face that you can't see clearly?" Firouz asked for Rongar.

"No, it's not like that at all," Sinbad continued. "I'm not sure how to explain this, but when I'm in the dream, when I'm seeing it happening, it's like I'm in it. I'm a part of it. I have no idea what it means." At their silence he continued, "I'm looking at events through her eyes, I'm feeling what she feels, I know the things she knows." He stopped talking, preparing himself for his next statement. "I think I'm the little girl," he finished, slightly embarrassed, and waited for their response. When there was none, he finally looked up to see their bewildered faces.

* * *

Sinbad's confession was so stunning that it actually drew their meeting to a close early. Each of them was confused by what it all meant and they had agreed to think on it for the night and discuss it again in the morning.

That night, Sinbad tossed and turned in his bed….

xxxxxxxxxFlashesxxxxxxxxxx

He was standing at a window, her window, looking out through her eyes. He could see the hoards in the distance. Blood thirsty men, butchering any who stood in their way without a second thought. In the distance, two large ships were anchored in the small harbour.

Gripped by fear, her fear, he stood, fixed at the window watching the carnage. She did not utter a sound, was incapable of sound. He watched as men she knew, neighbours and friends, joined the fray against the mad men. So much blood. Sinbad wished he could force her eyes, their eyes, shut, to block out the images, keep her from seeing.

A woman hurried below them to barricade their doors and windows. It was her mother, Sinbad knew it because the girl knew it. He heard a name being called, and knew it was the girl's, but he couldn't understand it. It was muffled by the sounds of metal clanging.

The sickening crack of bones breaking distracted him from trying to decipher her name. She was watching the man on the horse, Sinbad knew it was her father. His garb was unfamiliar to Sinbad, yet reminded him of something.

Suddenly, fingers wrapped around the tiny arms, and the girl began to struggle…

xxxxxxxxxxxxFlashesxxxxxxxxxxx

Sinbad awoke with a start. Doubar was leaning over him, holding his shoulders and shaking him violently. "Little Brother," he shouted, "WAKE UP!"

The sound was deafening and Sinbad groaned as he drew his hands to his ears. "And what crime have I committed against you Big Brother to be woken like this," he drawled. It was only then that he noticed Rongar was also in his cabin. Sinbad looked at the two of them questioningly.

"Little Brother," Doubar's voice returned to a normal speaking level, "you were dreaming, and calling out in your sleep and thrashing around like the devil had possessed you! I've been calling your name for at least two minutes now! It would have taken an elephant trampling you to wake you!"

By this time Sinbad noticed several other lower crewmates starting to mill about outside his cabin. He curtly ordered them all back to their duties or bunkers if they were lucky enough to not be working.

Maeve and Firouz had also arrived. Maeve looked like a tornado had struck her.

"What's all the yelling about?" She asked breathlessly. Sinbad motioned them all into his cabin and then instructed Doubar to shut the door.

"I don't want this getting around to the rest of the crew," he informed them as he looked each in the eye. Doubar suddenly felt guilty for creating the scene that had brought everyone running from their rooms. "I also don't want anyone here worrying needlessly. These dreams or visions, whatever they are, aren't hurting me," he thought about that for a moment, "although they are causing me to lose a lot of sleep. Regardless, I'd appreciate it if we could keep this private." He again looked to each member of his crew and received slight nods and agreements from each.

"I apologize Little Brother," Doubar was truly embarrassed, "I guess that's just me eh, big man, little brain. I'm sorry."

Sinbad put his hand on Doubar's large arm, "Never apologize for being concerned about me Big Brother. And never insult my brother either," he said earnestly, looking kindly into his brothers eyes. Doubar nodded and smiled.

"I guess we should be letting you get back to sleeping Captain!" Doubar stated with a grin.

"Thank you for that," Sinbad stated as he drew himself off the bed. He brought with him the bed sheet which he held around his waist with one hand. Sailors were hardly known for modesty, but there was no reason to strut around nude in front of ones friends… and Maeve. He walked over to the door and held it open with his body. Doubar laughed and exited first, followed by Rongar.

As Maeve moved to pass Sinbad he reached out and held her elbow. He had something very personal to ask of her. She looked at him questioningly, and stepped aside to allow Firouz to exit with the other two.

"Yes Sinbad?" she asked, a puzzled look marring her beautiful features.

"Maeve, I have something to ask of you. And if you refuse I will totally understand. But you are the most perceptive member of my crew, and I could really use some insight into this." He was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn't just blurt it out. Her eyes took on a guarded look as he continued. "I want you to…" he paused, regrouping his thoughts, "What I need is…" No that didn't sound like the right way to say it either, "There should be someone to…" he sighed, he couldn't finish his sentence while looking directly at her. Why did this have to be so awkward. Why did he have to be nude? Luckily for him, Maeve caught onto what he was trying to ask and cut him off.

"Of course I'll watch you tonight while you sleep Sinbad," she stated keeping her voice even and unreadable.

"You don't mind?" Sinbad breathed a sigh of relief. He had no desire to become a human rotisserie and asking Maeve to spend the night in his room was a surefire way to end up as one.

"Not at all," she replied, "I'll be able to tell if anything enters your body while you sleep. And I'll be a little more subtle than Doubar when I wake you from the dream," she grinned at him.

"Thanks," he drawled, not sure if he liked this idea anymore.

"I'll be back in 5 minutes Captain," she announced.

He looked at her questioningly.

"I'm going to make myself a little more… respectable," she stated which brought Sinbad's attention to the fact that she was wearing a white chemise, similar to the one she wore under her vest during the day, and nothing else.

"Ahh..," Sinbad grinned at her and raised an eyebrow. The awkwardness he felt faded away and was replaced by the teasing tone that underlay their entire relationship. "I don't mind if you stay as you are," he stated cockily.

She turned to leave and threw over her shoulder, "Of course _you_ wouldn't," she replied. "Oh and Sinbad, you might want to reconsider your outfit while I'm gone as well."

The only response she got was an indignant 'hmphf' sound from her Captain as he reached for a pair of pants.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Sinbad lay in bed, while Maeve sat at his table and perused her books on magic. He was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to fall back asleep, but he couldn't help but be slightly distracted by the lovely sorceress. There were few moments where he could watch her without fear of being caught by his crew, his friends, or even worse…by her. He studied her now, the darkness in the cabin providing the perfect cover; her profile was to him as she gazed down at the papyrus pages.

Maeve had traveled with them for over a year now. And yet in all that time, Sinbad realized he had not learned anything more about her than he had learned the first day they met. She was an enigma that floated around him, a secret he was dying to unlock. He could describe her form and personality effortlessly, knew all of her mannerisms, the nuances of her speech, and even how she took her morning java, but about her, who she really was… he knew absolutely nothing. She guarded her secrets well, and her heart even more. Sinbad reflected on that last thought for a sad moment. In the past year, unbeknownst to the rest of the crew, he and Maeve had come close to becoming lovers - on more than one occasion. The attraction between them was undeniable, and the mutual respect and admiration they held for each other was obvious. Their friends were right when they accused them of being stubborn, but they had no idea how far that stubbornness had gone.

Sinbad thought briefly of the few sweet occasions where either he or Maeve had crossed the boundary of friendship. The few secret kisses they had shared (some in this very cabin he thought), the knowing looks, the lustful gazes, the incessant bickering and teasing; it had all boiled down to one thing… they were never on the same page at the same time. Their relationship, spoken or unspoken, was one of frustration and unfulfilled needs. They had never openly discussed their feelings, or spoken of the stolen moments that had occurred between them. They ignored those feelings and their own actions immediately after they occurred, shutting each other out, telling themselves that it had been a moment of weakness, or just comfort offered between friends. They were lying to themselves and they both knew it.

He watched her read as the candlelight danced across her features in a playful way. She was breathtaking. And Sinbad suddenly wondered why they were so coy with one another after all that had happened between them.

The flame of the solitary candle on the desk flickered, casting shadows around the room. Maeve suddenly looked up and her eyes met his. His heart stopped briefly as he suddenly wondered if her powers allowed her to read his mind. But his fears were laid to rest as he could tell by the way she squinted, that she could not fully make him out in the bed. He smiled. For some reason, he decided he liked that.

Maeve had been reading for at least an hour when her eyes decided they needed a break. The dim candle was creating a strain on her, but she dared not light any more for fear of waking Sinbad. As the candle flickered she looked up from her book towards Sinbad's bed. She couldn't quite see him in the dim light, but he was not making any sounds so she figured he was sleeping soundly. She stood up and decided to stretch her long limbs with a turn about the room. She yawned and wondered briefly how late Sinbad would sleep past dawn. She was tired, not only because it was past midnight, but because she too had not been sleeping well for the past month. But unlike Sinbad, she knew the cause of her restlessness. She wandered over to the far wall of Sinbad's cabin. She had been in his cabin many times before while on duty, and a few times while not on duty, she blushed at those memories; but she had never been here with the opportunity of investigating it so covertly. Sinbad was a man of many mysteries, and Maeve wondered how many of them he had hidden in this room.

She stopped in front of the far wall to examine Sinbad's 'Map of the Known World.' It spanned the entire back wall of his cabin and she marveled at how large it was. All the ports and lands where labeled with miniscule print so as to fit them all in. She found Baghdad and Basra, and studied the Seven Seas that surrounded this area of which their Captain was allegedly the 'Master' of. She grinned, Sinbad was a master of many things, of that she was certain. Her thoughts were refocused on the map when she noticed a sliver of light gleaming on the map. She snatched the candle off the desk and held it close to the map. She gasped when she realized the map was covered in tiny pins. As she gazed on in wonder it suddenly dawned on her that these pins marked ports which Sinbad had already sailed to. As her eyes roamed the large expansive map, she began to truly appreciate what an accomplished sailor Sinbad was. He had traveled to so many places already in his life. Maeve was envious as she spied pins decorating the coast of Africa, Egypt and Rome. The pins jutted out far into the East, China, Japan; places that Maeve had only dreamed of visiting. Some pins marked towns quite far inland, indicating that the sailor had traded his sea legs to do some dry exploring during his travels as well.

Sinbad watched Maeve as she studied his map. He was happy that she had the candle with her again as it allowed him to view her better from his position. He could tell by the look on her face that she was impressed by his travels, and it was all he could do to keep a self-satisfied grin from appearing on his face. He had never sought her approval, but he wanted it just the same.

As her eyes drifted westward again, they couldn't help but be drawn north, to the image of her homeland. So far from Mesopotamia she thought, as she gazed at the image, noting that Sinbad had traveled as far north as Spain, but had apparently gone no farther.

She was moved by some unknown force to reach out and trace the delicate coastline of her homeland. Sinbad's map was pretty accurate she noted with pleasure as she recognized the various inlets and ports of Eire. Her finger continued its investigation along the south western coast of Eire and further north. Her finger swept past the southern province of Munster which housed the counties of Cork, Kerry and Clare. Northward it continued into Connacht, till her finger finally came to rest on the rocky coast of county Sligo. Somewhere along that rocky expanse was the town of Kellswater, where Maeve had grown up. Its small port was not identified on the map.

A voice in the dark broke her silent reverie. "Is that your home?" it asked softly.

Maeve whirled around, an accusatory glare on her face she hissed, "Ye should be sleepin' by now Sinbad, not pryin' inta tha' business o' others!" she threw at him. She was shocked by the rarely used Irish accent that had escaped her mouth and decided she must be more tired than she thought.

Sinbad chuckled to himself hearing the Celtic lilt to her words; he had clearly startled the sorceress. "First of all Maeve, everything about that map IS my business, and secondly, I'm sorry for surprising you, but it's a little difficult to fall asleep knowing I'm being watched. You know how it is," he offered.

And she did know. People like Sinbad and her, found it impossible to let others witness them in a vulnerable state such as sleep. Years of self preservation instinct were probably making it impossible for Sinbad to relax right now even though he rationally knew that he had nothing to fear from her. And it was not that they hadn't seen one another sleeping before either, of course they had many times during their adventures. But there was something distinctly different about having someone watch out for danger while you slept, and having someone simply watching you while you sleep. It was unnerving, and probably one of the reasons Maeve so disliked having a lover in her bed.

She nodded her head, accepting his apology and replied, "I didn't mean to jump down your throat Sinbad. Guess I'm just on edge," She shrugged in acceptance offering him a small smile.

"You didn't answer my question yet," he replied with a smile that Maeve could feel even in the darkness.

She smiled inwardly. He was interested in her. It made her happy to know that. "No," she replied softly, "it is not my home." She could not see his perplexed look in the dark as she continued, "It was my home. Many years ago," she finished, looking again at the map.

"What's it called," he probed when it became apparent that she was going to offer no more information.

"Oh, um… Kellswater," that was the name of her village, "in the province of Connacht. Northwest Erin," she answered him. Sinbad watched as her face took on one of longing, and then sadness. He watched her silently for a moment, wondering what painful memory had caused the face she wore now.

"Then I'll have to put a pin up there one day," he stated as he watched Maeve's face become a carefully schooled mask of disinterest. He had come to recognize that face as the one she used when she was trying to hide the emotions raging within. He had first recognized it as such, during one of their 'close encounters' in private. Since then he had seen her use it many times when topics arose that she did not wish to discuss openly. He wondered how he had not come to recognize it sooner. He also knew that it meant it was time for bed again, which was fine he noted, as his eyelids drooped yet again. "Goodnight Maeve," he said, then jokingly added "….my Celtic dream," hoping to lighten her mood, or at least redirect her thoughts.

She chuckled slightly and smiled in his direction as a humorous image of Sinbad, six inches tall, played through her mind. She smiled again, a genuine smile so rarely seen. "Goodnight sailor," she said into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Sinbad awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. He had slept the entire night through, without incident. Cracking his eye open, he searched his cabin for the sorceress. She wasn't there.

He dressed for the day and headed to the galley for breakfast. Maeve was already there with Firouz and Rongar.

"Hey sleepyhead," she greeted. She was shoveling down runny eggs. Sinbad suspected that breakfast had been on Firouz.

"Anything left?" he asked, his stomach rumbled loudly.

"Still in the pan Sinbad," Firouz pointed out eagerly. Sinbad helped himself to the remaining eggs. He was happy they had decided to keep a few hens on board.

"So Sinbad," Firouz asked, "how was your night?" The two male crewmembers did little to hide their amusement. It was no secret that Maeve had spent the night in the Captain's cabin. Maeve rolled her eyes. Sinbad chose to ignore the comment. Firouz and Rongar snickered away.

Maeve spoke next over the sound of Firouz's laughter, "Sinbad, I could detect nothing out of the ordinary last night," she told him. He had already suspected that much.

"I know Maeve," he replied happily, "I haven't slept so well in the past 2 weeks. Maybe the dreams are finally over," he stated optimistically. "Now things can get back to normal!" Sinbad was always overly enthusiastic about these things.

"I wouldn't get my hopes up so quickly sailor," Maeve warned. She finished her eggs and put her dish in the soapy water basin. "I'm headed to bed," she informed him. "I'll see you all in a few hours," she nodded to each of the men as she set off down the hall towards her own cabin.

"Take as long as you need Maeve," Sinbad called after her.

Without turning back, she raised her arm as if to blow him off repeating, "I'll see you all in a few hours."

* * *

Sinbad's mood improved throughout the day, he felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel rested. He was re-energized and made good use of that excess energy.

He was high up on the netting tying a few stray ropes together when a headache hit him… hard. Visions filled his mind; swords, axes, blood, carnage, and a child caught up in it. It was his dream, coming to him in fragmented pieces. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, his mind cleared of the images, and he saw his ship below him again. Doubar was standing with Rongar just beneath him. Sinbad caught one of the ropes dangling beside him, intending to slide down it to tell his brother and friend what had just happened.

But just then, a second wave of visions hit him, harder than the first this time. These visions were new, ones he had not witnessed in his dream. They were trapped, in a cellar, sparks of fire were falling through the cracks in the floorboards overhead catching quickly on the dried leaves and wood in the cellar. He was her again, she wasn't alone. There were 2 older boys with her, and a baby. Her brothers he realized. And they were trapped. All of them. For the second time his vision suddenly began to clear, he saw the Nomad again, but felt distanced from it, like he was now watching his own ship from a dream.

He didn't have a chance to analyze it as the visions hit him for a third time, pulling him into something he no longer wanted to witness. The cellar was ablaze, the boys were yelling at him, yelling at her he realized, pushing her towards the wall. He felt the numbness in her body, the willingness to let go of life. Suddenly he felt light, the larger boy had lifted him, lifted her, pushing her into a dirty hole in the wall. It was an air shaft leading to the surface, designed to keep the cellar arid and not musty. It was just barely large enough for her body. The baby was there as well. He heard her brothers screaming at her to go, to escape. He heard their screams as the flames consumed them. He felt her anguish, her terror. It gripped his very soul. Let me die. The words echoed in his mind as his fingers went numb. He lost his grip on the ropes and plummeted to the deck of the Nomad.

* * *

Authors Note: More reivews more motivation to post! Hope you guys are enjoying it so far. There's lots more to come. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I appreciate the feedback! 


	5. Chapter 5

Maeve woke from a restless sleep. Something had jostled her brain, pulling her from her vivid dreamscape. She considered trying to sleep for a couple more hours, since it was only just noon. She'd slept for 5 hours she suspected. Sinbad had told her to take as long as she needed. But almost as instantly as that thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. She wasn't going to feel any more rested even if she lay here for another 10 hours.

So with resolution, she got up from her bunk, and went over to her dresser. Reaching into the bowl on the dresser, she splashed some cool water on her face, hoping to slow her racing mind at the same time. She tried to focus on something current, she reached out to her brothers mind, hoping that a brief chat would distract her.

What she found there however, was a tangled mess of thoughts that she couldn't sort out. Dressing quickly, she tried to make Dermott aware of her presence.

Sister!! She heard his alarmed voice in her mind. Come quickly, there has been an accident. Sinbad is injured!! He showed her the scene that had just unfolded on the Nomad, but from his bird's eye view. Dermott had been roosting in the crow's nest when Sinbad had let go of the rope he was climbing and fell to the boards below.

Maeve gasped out loud at the image. Forgetting the ties on her vest, and ignoring her boots, she flew from her cabin and headed towards the hatchway. As she breezed past Sinbad's cabin, she caught sight of the flurry of activity in there. Rongar, Doubar and Firouz were crowded around Sinbad's bed. Maeve backpedaled and wheeled into the room.

"What happened!" she demanded breathlessly.

Firouz was busy pressing cold clothes to Sinbad's sweat beaded brow, and Doubar was too worried about his brother to even notice the sorceress' presence. Rongar turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. He motioned to her that the Captain had fallen from the riggings. Maeve already knew that.

"How did this happen?" she asked of no one in particular. Doubar turned to her as she pushed past them all to look at her Captain herself. Moving around Firouz, she gasped at the sight of Sinbad. He was so pale, and he had sustained a nasty gash on the back of his head it seemed. He was still bleeding profusely. "Heavens no…" she whispered, clasping her hands over her mouth in shock. Any head injury could easily become deadly, you didn't have to be Firouz to know that.

She felt sick to her stomach. How could he have fallen? He never fell or lost his footing! He was their Captain! He was Sinbad the Sailor for god sake!! Things like this weren't supposed to happen to him. She felt Doubar's thick hands grasp her arms. He turned her to face him, turned her away from Sinbad. They looked at one another for a moment, unshed tears in their eyes, before they fell into each others embrace. They stood silently together, both praying to their own gods that Sinbad would awaken.

* * *

Author's note: Short I know, I'm such a tease. The next part is waiting… Please review… 


	6. Chapter 6

The afternoon on the Nomad passed silently. The tension on board was thick and all eyes would stray to the Captain's door as they passed by. The entire crew knew about the Captain's near fatal fall, and it frightened them all. Many sat in groups together, whispering about demons and making the sign against the evil eye. Everyone had their own theory about why the Captain had fallen. No one believed he could have simply made a "visual judgment error" as Firouz insisted.

Luckily, their fears for Sinbad's health were unnecessary. As their illustrious Captain had shown them time and again, nothing could keep him down for long. It was barely 5 hours later, when Sinbad began to rouse from his unconscious state.

Firouz, Doubar, Rongar and Maeve were all in his cabin at the time. None of them had been able to leave their Captain without knowing he would be alright.

Sinbad was aware of them before they became aware of his return to consciousness. Firouz was by his side, flipping through a large leather bound book that Sinbad recognized as his medical guide. Doubar and Maeve sat at his desk looking dejected. Maeve was resting her head on Doubar's broad shoulder. Inwardly, Sinbad smiled at their subtle intimacy. It pleased him that Doubar and Maeve were close, and he pretended not to know why. Rongar stood by the door, as if protecting them all from any intrusion.

Sinbad tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, but his throat was dry and all that came out was a strangled noise. It was enough to bring everyone to his bedside. He pushed back their hands and brushed off their questions, pointing to the pitcher of water on the desk. Rongar was way ahead of him, and was already pressing a cup of cold water into his hand. Sinbad nodded his thanks and guzzled the glass down.

"That's much better," he stated, "Thank you my friend," he nodded to Rongar.

"Little Brother," Doubar claimed Sinbad's attention, "What the blazes happened to you up there?" he asked.

"I fell?" It was both a statement and a question. Sinbad reached up and fingered the bandaging on his head. He forced his mind to bring him back to the events of hours ago. He didn't really remember falling. He'd never fallen before. The crew around him exchanged worried glances.

"You fell from the rigging," Doubar continued. "Right down in front of me and Rongar. We weren't expecting it, I mean, you seemed so full of beans this morning, none of us suspected you might be ill."

"I'm not ill Doubar," Sinbad stated. And he wasn't. Minus the injury on his head, he felt fine.

"Then what happened?" Maeve asked.

"I think," he paused, "I think I had a vision."

Maeve stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You mean you saw your dream again?" Doubar asked concerned.

"No, well, yes, I saw the dream, but I saw more than what I had dreamed even. That makes it a vision doesn't it Maeve?" He asked her for clarification. He'd never really taken an interest in magic to learn those kinds of details. But she was too shocked by the possibility to answer him.

"What else did you see?" Firouz asked. They all sat down, it seemed like they might not want to hear this standing.

"Well I saw the fight, that I saw before. It looks like some kind of raid on a small village. I see the men fighting each other, and the girl, or me, is watching. Then I saw another scene. We're locked in a cellar I believe, there is smoke and fire coming through the floorboards overhead. There are 2 older boys with her now. They're her brothers." Sinbad paused for a moment to review what he had told them, making sure it was accurate. He looked up and noticed the crew exchanging looks around him. They thought he was losing his mind. He looked at Maeve, he couldn't read her expression, but he knew she was listening intently. Perhaps more so than the rest of the crew he noted.

He continued, "There is a baby as well. They're all trapped underground in the cellar. Then one of the older boys picks her up, and puts her in the air vent that leads above ground. And then…" he stopped speaking. It hadn't really been him in that cellar, but he had felt all of her emotions as it happened to her, and he choked on them now. How could he finish. Her brothers had died in that cellar. Let me die… her words floated around him now as he stared off into space.

Firouz exchanged a worried glance at Doubar. They had known Sinbad the longest and this certainly wasn't like him.

"It isn't just a dream. We have to find her before its too late," Sinbad stated resolutely. He couldn't bring himself to tell his crew how real it all was to him, how much it hurt him. He had to save this girl, and somehow he felt that saving her, would save him as well; for he had lived through those horrific moments with her, with the mind of a child, and it had changed him forever. He had to stop it from happening to her.

"How are we going to do that?" Doubar asked.

"Change course and set sail towards Basra," he said, "I want to speak to Cairpra." He was convinced that if anyone could help them, it would be Dim Dim's wife.

"Aye aye Captain," Doubar replied while exiting the cabin to follow his brother's orders. The heavy clunking of his boots reflected the heavy feeling in his heart. He was worried about Sinbad.

Firouz began fretting over Sinbad's condition again and pushed him back down onto the bunk. He reapplied a cool compress to his forehead and was not deterred by Sinbad's repeated reprimands. For lack of anything constructive to be doing, Rongar and Maeve left the cabin as well to continue with their own duties.

* * *

Maeve walked slowly back to her cabin and shut the door. She ran over every word Sinbad had spoken in her mind. Was it possible? But how? She pulled a book off her shelf and began to earnestly search through the pages looking for something to help Sinbad. She knew now what was happening to their Captain. And she cursed herself internally for not realizing it sooner. It was that damn bracelet of his, she thought, it was the bracelet that was making the connection.

_Sister_ She felt Dermott tugging at her mind. She ignored him. _Sister _, he said more insistently, _what is it that you are hiding from me, and from him right now. What do you know about Sinbad's dreams?_

_It is not a dream_ she told Dermott, at least not his own she thought to herself. _Do not worry yourself over these matters my pet. It will sort itself out in due time. _She hoped he would drop it. And knowing his sister as well as he did… he let her be, though he did not understand what was bothering her so much.

Maeve brought her full attention back to her books, knowing that she would find something in here that would help. Ahhh… that's perfect she thought, as the pages fell open to reveal a particular spell. She began gathering the supplies she would need from her shelves, she hoped she had enough.

Hours later, Maeve finished her conjuring. She was exhausted both from her spell and the lack of sleep the night before. She had never put so much into a single spell. She prayed it would work. As she settled into her bunk for the night, she closed her eyes and reviewed the spell she had used. It had to work. Tonight Sinbad would sleep soundly under her Protection Spell. Tonight, she hoped it would protect him, from her. She closed her eyes, and let sleep claim her.

* * *

Author's note: Anyone wanna know what happens next?? 


	7. Chapter 7

xxxxxxx Flashes xxxxxxxx

Maeve, a very young Maeve, was awakened by the sound of metal clanging, and men shouting. It was supposed to be the dead of night. She drew herself from bed and crept to the window of her loft to investigate. What she beheld would scar her young mind forever.

She could see all the way into the village from her window. Their home was set back from the others and on a higher elevation; it backed onto the old forest, putting more distance between Maeve and the slaughter taking place. The land around the village had become a scene of blood and carnage. Bones broke and skulls cracked under the heavy blows dealt by the men wearing armor. They were under attack. Maeve watched wide eyed, and horror struck, she was glued to the window. The full moon illuminated the night so fully that it rivaled the sun. It allowed Maeve to see all the way to the harbour, where two large and intimidating ships she had never laid eyes on before, were docked. She did not utter a sound, was incapable of sound. She watched silently as men she knew, neighbours and friends, joined the fray against the mad men. So much blood.

She heard noise below her as her mother ran to barricade their doors and windows. She heard her own name being called, but she couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes from the scene unfolding less than half a mile away. Looking into the distance she saw her father wielding an axe against a man on a horse. He felled the man easily and hoped on the back of the horse, riding it into the centre of a brawl. He hacked and slashed violently and every time his axe fell, a man went with it. He was an experienced warrior, who had seen many raids in his time, but there were so many of them, and Maeve feared for her father's life. Suddenly she saw Bran at their father's side, fighting with him, fighting for their families, and fighting to survive. "Nooooo," She whispered in fear, shaking her head as reality began breaking through the haze her mind had created to protect itself. It struck her hard, the realization that the horror she was witnessing was happening to them. Her mind reeled in shock and she vomited.

She felt fingers tugging at her arms, prying her away from the window. Unshed tears blurred her vision and she kicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards the ladder. She broke free and ran to the window again, unwilling to look away. Sobbing uncontrollably she watched as her brother and father were overwhelmed. Her Father, Cian, was knocked from the horse's back, and out of Maeve's view. It was the last time she would ever see him again. From her window, she saw Bran's head rolling down the sloping path. For Maeve, time stood still. Her body stopped working, her mind stopped thinking, her vision blurred, and she felt as though she was leaving her body. Was she dying? She wanted to. She remained sedated, calm, untouchable; she watched, but was not moved by what she saw anymore. She was in shock.

Maeve was brought back to her immediate surroundings when she felt two pairs of hands pulling at her now. It was her mother and Drostan, pulling her again towards the ladder. This time she did not struggle against them. She heard whimpering and realized it was coming from her own mouth. She listened to it as though she were a stranger, watching herself, not connected to this body that housed such pain. Her soul was crying for the deaths of her beloved brother and father.

Drostan hoisted Maeve to his shoulder and descended the ladder with her. At 15 years old, Drostan had already acquired much of their fathers mass and bulk and Maeve's thin 8 year old frame was a light load for him. Once on the floor of their cottage, he handed Maeve to their mother. Maeve clung to her desperately. She was barely conscious of what was happening around her, but she heard the cellar door in the floor being opened and was faintly aware of being carried down the stairs. Her mother placed her on an old blanket beside her 13 year old brother Kegan. In his grasp was the toddler, Dermott. Kegan's eyes were wild with fear; the sounds of the battle outside were fierce. The smell of blood was overpowering. He looked at Maeve's frightened face and knew it mirrored his own. Dermott wailed for his mother, his 2 year old mind not aware of the gravity of their situation, but well aware of the emotions floating on the air. Deora kissed each of her children on the head, and hurried back up the cellar stairs.

The cellar door banged closed and was locked from above. From below, Drostan also locked it and then stacked crates and barrels of preserves until they created a wall to protect them. Through the cracks in the floor boards, they could see their mother up above, dragging behind her a large rug to conceal the cellar door. Drostan came to sit by his siblings. He felt that he should be helping his Father and two older brothers in this fight, but he was still just a boy and he was frightened by the massacre happening outside the house. Their mother had insisted that her four youngest children be barricaded in the cellar where they would be safe from the unforgiving blades, until these marauders passed.

The cries from outside became muted as their barriers were put in place, but there was still the air shaft running from the cellar to the back of the house, and from that lone entry way, the cries of their townspeople filled their ears.

Suddenly they heard the front door burst open as the raiders made their way further into town. The great door splintered and cracked, barely hanging on by its hinges. The beast of a man stood still for a moment, listening to the creaking of the old house, trying to discern where its inhabitants were hiding. He chuckled and smiled to himself; these Celts were an ignorant lot. Too proud to leave their homes, he knew he would find them eventually. He tapped on the walls as he walked, listening for any change in sound. Two doors down they had already found an entire family hidden between the walls of their home… a nice trick, but it didn't save them in the end.

Another man entered the house from the back door. Seeing one another, they both gave the other the sign to be quiet. Both began to search.

Maeve clutched onto Kegan and Dermott for strength, the small group huddled together for protection. Drostan had armed himself with a pick axe and was determined that if anyone opened the trap door, they would not make it down the steps alive; and even if they did, they wouldn't be walking back up the steps ever again. Each of them wondered where their mother had hidden, and prayed she was safe. Their hopes were dashed however when her scream pierced their hearts. She had moved up to Maeve's loft to hide, and the men had found her easily.

Her screams filled the house, as she fought off her attackers. The sounds drove the children locked below into a frenzy. Dermott cried out in terror, unable to contain his emotions. Maeve and Kegan tried desperately to soothe him while Drostan tightened his grip on the pick. For the first time in her life, Maeve was thankful to have him as her brother.

Their mother could be heard sobbing for several minutes, as the men raped her. Then abruptly, the sounds stopped altogether, and all that could be heard was the sound of the soldiers coming down the thick wooden ladder again. The silence was more sickening than the screaming or sobbing. Maeve's heart filled with dread, and she knew her mother was dead. Looking to her brothers, she could see that they knew it as well.

Dermott was still whimpering in Kegan's arms, and out of desperation and fear of being heard, Kegan tried to clamp Dermott's mouth shut with his hand. Dermott, in response, let out a wail of protest at the treatment, and could not be soothed. Immediately the quartet heard the large rug that covered the cellar door being roughly kicked aside. Dust and debris fell through the cracks of the cellar landing on their upturned faces. The men picked the lock easily and pulled on the heavy door, but it didn't budge. It was still locked from the inside.

"Get an axe!" they heard the instruction; and one of the men left, his heavy boots pounding across the floor over their heads.

Drostan's heart was pounding wildly in his chest, he re-gripped the axe for the hundredth time. He knew they were coming for them and like hell if he was gonna let those bastards touch his younger siblings. Never before had Drostan felt so close to his family, his desire to protect them overpowered his rational brain that told him he was no match for these men. Looking at Maeve's terrified face, he suddenly wished he could apologize to her for everything he had ever done to hurt her. Despite all her oddness, he wouldn't change her for the world. When he glanced at Kegan, he was overwhelmed by the knowledge that his brother was truly the best friend he could have had. His gaze finally fell to Dermott, and Drostan wished they would both survive today, so that they could grow to know one another. The pounding of boots overhead brought his attention back to the raiders.

The second man returned, and began swinging wildly at the floorboards. The children knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the old boards would give away completely. Maeve sobbed in fear, clutching to Kegan's shirt. Kegan pushed Dermott into Maeve's small hands and went to arm himself with a rusty old pitchfork. Looking at Drostan, the duo stood on either side of the barricaded steps, trembling, knowing it might be the last stand of the 'Terrible Two'. In moments the men would be through the wooden door; after that they would make short work of Drostan's blockade; and then of the children themselves…

Suddenly a third man entered the home, this one spoke with authority, "Ya done in here or what? We're moving out, let's go!"

"They's some in the cellar Captain," the first man informed his commander as their work on the cellar door suddenly ceased.

The Captain looked around the home. Spying the body of a middle-aged woman hanging from the loft, he looked at the mangled floor and spat, "Children ain't no use to us, ya already killed the one that's worth something!" He said as he backhanded the man that had spoken. "We're movin' out now!" He repeated forcefully, "Forget 'em down there! Burn 'em! Burn 'em all!!" With that he grabbed the oil lamp from the wall and smashed it into the butchered floorboards. The oil spread quickly bringing the fire with it as it moved. The men left the cottage behind their leader.

The children listened to the exchange with rising hope. They had almost cheered when the men could be heard retreating. But their momentary relief at the raider's departure was choked away by the smoke that began pouring into the small cellar. Drostan broke through his own blockade and opened the lock on the door. Heaving with his back and shoulders, he tried to lift the heavy wood, but it wouldn't budge. Kegan stumbled up the stairs to help. Together they pushed and strained, and were eventually joined by Maeve, but it was to no avail. The hacking of the raiders axe must have damaged it to the point where it was jammed.

The flames began to lick their way through the floorboards and somehow spontaneously jumped to the few spots of oil that had seeped onto the cellar floor. The fire began to spread. Maeve screamed and grabbed Dermott into her embrace while Drostan grabbed a large sheet and began swatting at the flames with Kegan's help. Above them, they heard the flames claim more and more of the old structure. Wood fell from the rafters, and roof singles came crashing to the floor of their home. They were going to die here Maeve realized.

She felt the numbness seeping into her limbs again as she watched Drostan and Kegan valiantly fighting off the flames. In the end, she knew they would fail, and they knew it too. They were trapped. Dermott wailed in her arms as her grip on him became one of steel. She felt as though she was floating again. She breathed deeply of the smoke; she would rather suffocate than burn to death she decided. Her mind began to desert her as it became enchanted by the flames that danced around her. Flickering, moving, coming and going. The flame was alive. It danced in front of her, beckoned her, taunted and teased her. As she stared into its seductive depths, she became aware of the fact that Drostan was carrying her again.

Drostan, put me down, she wanted to say, but she found she had no words left to speak. He put her down anyway, stood her in front of him and bent down till he was level with her. He was shouting at her, telling her something, she couldn't make it out. She blinked, she was tired. She closed her eyes as she stood in front of him, as much to shut out his face as to try to regain her senses. When she opened her eyes she saw Kegan's frightened face. Why was he scared, she wondered. Her mind was at ease, there was nothing left to worry about. She watched the flames dancing over Drostan's shoulder and smiled.

Suddenly Drostan hoisted her up 3 feet off the ground and shoved her into a tight dirty hole. What was going on? There was Dermott, in front of her, bawling. Dermott. She focused on him. He was covered in dirt and soot. From behind her she felt Drostan and Kegan shoving her. They were screaming and crying. Go. Go? They wanted her to go. She was in the air shaft to the cellar. That's where they put her. It ran straight to the surface in the back of the house.

Her dream world shattered again as her soul, almost free, was ripped from the heavens and thrown back into cold reality. They wanted her to crawl up the air chute with Dermott to live, while they burned down here. She sobbed uncontrollably, she knew they were too big to crawl out too, she barely fit herself. She had no room to turn around, to tell them she loved them, to bid them farewell. On her backside she felt them shoving her farther into the hole, as far as they could reach. Behind her they wept in fear at their own fates. She wanted to stay here with them. Let me die too. Her young mind ripped open and bled, she could not cope with this. "GO!" She heard them urging her, begging and pleading with her. She told them with her heart that she loved them, and forced her unwilling body forward, pushing Dermott along in front of her. Try as she might, she could not shut the pain out from her heart; and for as long as she lived, she would never forget the screams that reached her ears.

* * *

I'd like to thank those who have reviewed so far (especially those who have reviewed multiple times! I'm glad you're still reading!). 

I know this chapter was a bit... darkish... but I'd really like to know what you guys thought of it. (All of you! Don't leave the work up to the regular reviewers!). There are going to be some more darkish scenes as the story continues, so feedback on how you liked, or disliked this one, would be valuable.

And if you want to find out if Sinbad realizes that Maeve is the girl in his dreams in the next chapter... review!! BTW... how many people knew it was Maeve from the get-go... or at least suspected it? I know its a fairly common storyline given that it was meant to occur in the actual show... but I was trying to make it vague. Did it work:D


	8. Chapter 8

_Her dream world shattered again as her soul, almost free, was ripped from the heavens and thrown back into cold reality. They wanted her to crawl up the air chute with Dermott to live, while they burned down here. She sobbed uncontrollably, she knew they were too big to crawl out too, she barely fit herself. She had no room to turn around, to tell them she loved them, to bid them farewell. On her backside she felt them shoving her farther into the hole, as far as they could reach. Behind her they wept in fear at their own fates. She wanted to stay here with them. Let me die too. Her young mind ripped open and bled, she could not cope with this. "GO!" She heard them urging her, begging and pleading with her. She told them with her heart that she loved them, and forced her unwilling body forward, pushing Dermott along in front of her. Try as she might, she could not shut the pain out from her heart; and for as long as she lived, she would never forget the screams that reached her ears._

* * *

Sinbad woke screaming from his sleep. Sweat poured down the sides of his face as he gasped for air. The dream had been so vivid, his heart still pounded wildly. Who was she? His exhausted mind refused to cooperate. 

Sinbad's cry had startled the inventor who was resting in a chair by Sinbad's bed, monitoring his condition, despite the Captain's protests earlier.

"Are you alright?" the inventor asked, looking slightly unaware of his surroundings. Dawn was barely breaking on the horizon. It was still very early.

"Firouz," Sinbad gasped, happy to see his old friend by his side. He smiled at the curly haired man, "Am I glad to see you!" He laughed. It was right about then that the two men heard doors slamming and the easily recognizable sound of Doubar, crashing down the hallway in a hurry to make it to Sinbad's cabin.

Bursting through the door he demanded, "Little Brother what's going on?!" Rongar was not far behind Doubar.

Sinbad sighed wearily and sunk back into his bunk. He had a feeling of déjà vu. "It's alright Doubar, I was dreaming again, I'm ok though."

Doubar seemed to accept that answer, but he had no intention of leaving the Captain's quarters just yet. He settled himself at the desk and said, "This is getting to be a bit much isn't it! Anything new to tell us?"

Maeve had awoken at the exact same moment that Sinbad had. She had heard the commotion and immediately got dressed. The men were already assembled in Sinbad's cabin by the time she made it out of her own. She reached the Captain's room just in time to hear Doubar's query. She leaned against the doorframe. She was exhausted, but did not let it show.

Sinbad was instantly aware of her presence. He stared at her for a hard moment while he thought about Doubar's question. Did he have anything to tell them? He wasn't sure. He didn't think he had anymore information, only that he had finally reached the end of the dream. The girl was still unknown to him. But his thoughts about that were muddled now, like he was looking through frosted glass at his own mind. He realized they were all staring at him. He had to speak.

"Well," he began slowly. But again, his thoughts distracted him. He stared at Maeve again, trying to focus on a connection that his mind had already made but was not yet ready to reveal to him. It danced just beyond his reach.

His gaze made Maeve intensely uncomfortable. She shifted under his penetrating stare. She knew her spell had failed miserably to block his mind from hers. In her mentally and physically exhausted state, she had opened her mind to all the terrifying details of her past. And she had pulled Sinbad into that world with her. She held her breath, hoping that he still hadn't put the pieces together. He had not realized it earlier, perhaps he would not figure it out now. And tonight, she would try another spell, to keep him from seeing what she did not want him to.

Sinbad shook his head, reliving parts of his dream while his friends looked on in concern. He tried to pick up the clues.

_**Flashes**_

_He looked down at the babe she was holding now. His swaddling cloth, those designs, he'd seen them before._

_**Flashes**_

_They were yelling something at her, they wanted her to go. Sinbad knew it without knowing the words they spoke. But something about the words, the way they were said… the accent… he knew it from somewhere._

_**Flashes**_

_She struggled against the hands grabbing at her, swinging her head wildly from side to side. Red hair blurred their vision._

_**Flashes**_

_Her mother called to her as she ran to barricade the home. She called her name. The name was clear as day now and it rang through his head._

_Maeve…._

_**Flashes**_

Sinbad's head snapped up instantly. To the others it had appeared for a moment that he had slipped into some kind of trance. He came out of it now, and his eyes locked upon the lone female crewmember.

She felt his eyes burning into her, accusing and questioning. She knew the moment he looked up that he had figured it out. She met his gaze coolly, masking the tumultuous emotions ripping through her body. He knew. He saw. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Little Brother?!" Doubar finally cut in. The other men had noticed Sinbad's expression. Even Doubar was feeling uncomfortable about the way his brother was staring at Maeve.

"There is nothing more to tell right now," Sinbad stated, choosing his words carefully, never breaking his eye contact with the Celt. "I think I need to rest a bit," he stated, indicating that they should all leave. His eyes told Maeve that she'd better stay put. Those eyes kept her locked in her position. She wanted to run.

Doubar and Rongar slowly shuffled past Maeve, out the door. Firouz mounted a protest at being sent off, but Sinbad insisted that Firouz go eat something and then return. When they were alone, Sinbad finally released Maeve from his hypnotic stare. She wheeled backwards, intent on flying down the hall to her own cabin. But Sinbad could move like a cat when he wanted to, and he sprung from his bed and was already behind her, holding her back. He pulled her into his room, shutting the door quickly, blocking her exit. He held onto her, pushing her back against the door so that she could not escape before releasing her from his grip. He was thankful to be wearing pants this time.

"The girl in my dreams," he stated breathlessly, "she's you." It wasn't a question; he knew it for a fact. The look in her eyes confirmed it more than words ever could. He understood instantly what his dreams really were. He looked into her brown depths and felt his heart breaking for her, for what she had suffered.

"Maeve… your family, I'm so …"

"Don't!" she cut him off abruptly. She fixed her eyes on him, "Don't pity me Sinbad." She spoke forcefully, "Our past makes us who we are today. My past makes me strong! I do not want your pity!" A fire burned behind her eyes as she spoke. Her speech reminded him of one he had been given by Tetsu, the Ronin warrior. It served its purpose and immediately silenced him. He would respect her request as he had Tetsu's. After all, Maeve was a warrior as well.

She looked away suddenly, no longer able to look into his piercing blue eyes, feeling that he was somehow looking right into her soul. "Please don't tell the crew," she added.

"You have my word Maeve," he breathed softly. He wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this… let alone with her. He wanted desperately to comfort her somehow, but he knew she wouldn't want it. But he had also felt the tremble running along her skin and all over her body when he touched her. She was shaken up, worse than he had ever seen her in all their travels. He wasn't sure if it was because of the dream they had just shared, or if it was because he finally knew that the dream was hers.

Trying to make light of the situation, Maeve shakily added, "At least now you don't have to go running off to save someone, it's already too late."

Sinbad was caught off guard by her comment and by the sudden feeling of tenderness that crept up on him. He bent his head slightly trying to make eye contact with her, but was unwilling to put his hands on her chin to force the connection. She continued looking at the floor. "Is it?" he asked her, for it was as clear as day that Maeve was still suffering from the trauma, even though it was nearly 2 decades ago.

Maeve's head snapped up. Their eyes met.

For a moment, Maeve allowed herself to disappear in his crystal blue spheres. She considered his query, but didn't have an answer. She searched his eyes, not knowing what she hoped to find in them. She anticipated pity and sympathy, but gratefully found none in his eyes. She wasn't sure what she saw, but whatever it was, it took the wind out of her sails.

In that moment, she allowed herself to forget everything that wanted to be remembered. She let years of heartache wash away, broke down her own walls, lowered her defenses, and when she was done, she found herself, a woman, standing, a breath apart, from a man she had desired for the past year.

Sinbad didn't know when the mood had shifted so dramatically, but he became acutely aware of the heat rising between them. He saw the ember of desire flicker in Maeve's brown pools and knew it was mirrored in his own eyes. His pulse quickened as he brushed ever so slightly closer. He wanted this. They both wanted this. They breathed deeply of each others scent. Eyes locked. Time stood still.

But neither made a move.

The moment shattered.

Their hesitation cost them the moment as suddenly, such as with all things, the moment passed, and the spell between them was lifted. They had missed their cue once more. The enchantment had vanished and awkwardness now began to settle in its place.

Maeve allowed her eyes to drop towards the floor again while Sinbad backed away a few feet, giving her some space. Although it was probably more for himself than for her. They both swallowed deeply, trying to draw in air, trying to cage the raging emotions they both felt that were now floating intangibly between them. Sinbad cursed himself inwardly. Silently, Maeve cursed him as well.

"I tried to put a Protection Spell on you last night to keep you from being troubled by my thoughts Captain," she told him in an effort to break the silence. Sinbad wondered if she was trying to sound formal, or if that was just how it sounded to his ears after what had almost happened between them. "I'm going to try again tonight. It was silly of me to use a Protection Spell, I guess I jumped the arrow when I found it. I'm always rushing through these things, probably why my spells always go haywire…" She was rambling now; Sinbad realized she must be feeling as uncomfortable as he was right now, though she was certainly better at hiding it than he. That didn't surprise him. Though she was still a novice at magic, Maeve was a master at concealing her emotions, even if she was being long-winded in the process. "… so that's why the protection spell wouldn't work, what I should have been looking for was a Blocking Spell. I'll get it right this time, and you won't be bothered anymore," she finished.

"But what about you?" he asked softly, concern etched in his features. He was not just troubled about his lack of sleep anymore.

"I'll get along fine, as I always have Captain." Sinbad was acutely aware of the fact that she was avoiding using his name, and again using his title so formally. She never addressed him as Captain unless it was either in jest, or mocking, or even occasionally… warmly? That wasn't the word for it. All he knew was he'd never heard her call him Captain in the official way she was right now. Had they become strangers in the space of a minute he wondered? She had her hand on the door handle, turning it to leave. He wanted to stop her, he wanted to hold her, to tell her she could trust him with her secrets. He wanted to recapture the moment they had let slip by just moments before. But his words stilled, and his arms never left his side. Would she always have this effect on him he wondered.

She felt the overwhelming desire to leave the cabin. The air had become so thick, saturated with their thoughts, desires, … and fears. She caught his eye once more as she headed out the door. Time stilled again. She felt her heart pounding to escape her chest. Could he hear it she wondered. There it was, in the air around them. All the things they never said to one another, floating in that small space. She felt exposed, she had to leave immediately. Breaking eye contact, she entered the hallway, suddenly feeling much more in control. She headed swiftly for her quarters. She never looked back. She would use the rest of the day perfecting tonight's spell. It had to work tonight.

Sinbad did not move for several minutes after she departed.

He would spend the rest of the day in deep contemplation.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed so far!! Vendy, Ila88, Space-Case7029, zoelynbrowie, CrazyLikeaFox, vendy5 (is this 2 different Vendys?), and more recently Sunny, Vesperia, and Stitch! You're awesome!

I felt obligated to get this chapter up today since I got two new reviews in a row. See... reveiws make me work harder lol. I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with this chapter. It was tough to write, I've been playing with it for days now. My biggest beef is making either Maeve or Sinbad come out looking wimpy. I mean, they can be madly in love and chained to one another without being lame about it right? Well that's what I'm aiming for lol. Let me know what you think, how's the chemistry, etc. If they start to seem out of character/lame, please let me know. That said, I think I did ok in this chapter. The next one is waiting for your reviews... mwahahha.


	9. Chapter 9

That night, despite Maeve's effort at conjuring, her mind and Sinbad's were pelted with tidal wave after tidal wave of memories. Sinbad felt the intensity of this attack on his mind, felt that it was somehow stronger than before, and he was helpless against it. He watched with newfound horror as the familiar scene played itself out. Each gut-wrenching moment was magnified ten-fold for him under the knowledge that it was Maeve who was going through this terror, feeling this pain. And he was powerless to protect her from it.

After the raid, new images began to form in his mind. A home rebuilt, but there was no happiness there. Maeve cowered in a corner as a large man advanced upon her. Sinbad watched through her eyes as the man removed his belt, he felt her pain as it cracked across her delicate skin, repeatedly drawing blood. The severe beating continued, he felt her exhaustion, her desire to die, he felt sick. Suddenly, dizziness claimed Sinbad, and he broke free from the mental assault of Maeve's memories.

As instantly as his eyes were open, Sinbad jumped out of his bed and was racing down the hall towards Maeve's cabin. He did not knock on her door, or bother asking permission to enter. Rather, he burst through the door and headed straight for her bed.

She was fast asleep. She moaned lowly, and said some unintelligible words. Sinbad knew she was still trapped in her nightmare and he was desperate to free her from it. Sitting at the side of her bed, he grasped her arms and put gentle pressure on them while calling her name. She did not acknowledge him.

By the time the rest of the crew had arrived, Sinbad was yelling her name and shaking her violently. Nightly meetings were starting to become a regular occurrence on the Nomad.

"She won't wake up," he said to them with urgency. They didn't seem to understand, they didn't know what he knew. Had no idea what she was going through at that moment.

Without warning a light mist began to fill Maeve's cabin, and when it cleared, they saw an old friend. Cairpra. Five pairs of eyes turned towards the powerful sorceress. Dermott cackled with relief.

"I sensed that I am needed sooner than your sails would permit," she stated, explaining her appearance.

"You are right as always Cairpra," Sinbad stood to embrace the older woman. She smiled and accepted his arms. "But how did you know we were coming to see you?" he asked.

Cairpra raised an eyebrow and gave Sinbad a look to make him feel like a simpleton. "Lucky guess," she chuckled at his naivety.

"My Little Brother seems to be having difficulties sleeping Cairpra," Doubar informed her, "And now the lass appears to be having difficulties waking!"

"I see," the wise woman said, her eyes twinkling with wisdom. "Though I sense that this is really just one problem, and not two…" She locked eyes with Sinbad, and he nodded, confirming her suspicions.

The other three men witnessed the exchange and Doubar now wanted answers. "What the devil is going on here?!" He demanded.

Sinbad sighed, he had no desire to betray Maeve's trust. She had asked him to keep her secret and he had given her his word. He knew she would not want her private life opened up, even to these men that she trusted. So he was relieved when Cairpra decided to take that duty upon herself. She began to speak, and when she was finished, even Sinbad had learned things he had not known earlier.

"Maeve's inability to wake, and Sinbad's apparent inability to sleep, are linked. And both are being caused by magic," She stated. "Maeve's magic, to be exact. Though she does not even know it herself." She looked at each of the men, noting everyone's, but especially Sinbad's look of surprise. "You see, when Maeve first came to Dim Dim a few years ago, she was suffering from terrible dreams. Visions of her past plagued her. Because these dreams were so damaging to her study of the art of magic, Dim Dim put a spell on her, a binding spell that kept her memories from surfacing during her unconscious hours. However, in the time that Dim Dim has been away, it appears that his spell has weakened; possibly meaning that he has weakened … but that is a problem for another day." She appeared troubled for a moment, but pushed on. "Maeve's memories, which have been blocked for almost 3 years now, have finally resurfaced. And she has been inadvertently pulling Sinbad into those memories with her for some time now."

"So Sinbad's nightmare is actually Maeve's nightmare," Firouz summarized for everyone. "Fascinating!" He looked almost excited to have made the connection.

"You already knew this Little Brother?" Doubar questioned.

Sinbad shrugged faintly but did not speak. He had to look down to avoid the accusatory glares of his upper crew mates. He snuck a look at Doubar, who looked about ready to whomp him. He hoped they would understand why he hadn't told them.

Cairpra appeared oblivious to the undercurrent in the room as she continued speaking, "After being denied for so long, it appears that these shades of the past are now unwilling to retreat to the shadows. I have already tried to bind them as Dim Dim once did. But they are too strong now. And they are being protected by Maeve."

The men all looked at her questioningly. "Why would Maeve be protecting them? Firouz asked for everyone. "It seems illogical if these shades as you call them are causing her grief."

"She is doing it quite unintentionally I assure you," Cairpra explained, "Which also means she is using the full strength of her magic, something she seems unable to do consciously. And as powerful as I am, I cannot break through her shield. She is protecting them through her unwillingness to let them go."

Sinbad felt he understood perfectly, but that left one question in his mind, "But Cairpra, how do we help her? If you cannot bind these shades, what can be done?"

Cairpra smiled at Sinbad warmly. She sensed that he cared greatly for her husband's apprentice. She hoped it would be enough to save Maeve. Her smile lessened and she spoke with an air of foreboding, "What needs to be done cannot be undertaken lightly Captain."

"I understand Cairpra," he stated, "but I would sail to the ends of the earth and farther if I have to for Maeve. Or any member of my crew." He added looking around at them all.

"I know sailor," she replied kindly, "but this does not require any of you to even leave this room. But the journey, should you agree to take it, will take you farther than you have ever been before."

"Tell us what we need to do," Sinbad's cold blue eyes met hers. He didn't care what dangers awaited. Maeve needed their help.

"I only have strength enough to send one of you to her," She looked around at the men who all looked towards Sinbad. "I suggest it be you," she said to the Captain. "You're the one she keeps pulling into her dreams, so that will make it easier for you to reach her. She will not reject your presence as she might another." She sensed that Sinbad's bond to the young sorceress was strong, and that Maeve's unintentional choice in her rescuer was probably being influenced by something greater than just his reputation as a hero.

Sinbad nodded his head, encouraging her to finish speaking. Cairpra continued, "She needs a guide to bring her back to us. She needs help facing the phantoms of her past, and vanquishing them. Most of all, she will need your strength Sinbad, for you will walk beside her when she has none of her own. But if you do not have the will to stand against the darkness that consumes her, you may well be swept up by it until you too are trapped forever."

"Trapped forever?!" Doubar grunted his displeasure, standing up he placed a hand on Sinbad's arm, "Little Brother," he stated, "let me go instead, I'll bring her back to you, I swear it."

Sinbad patted his brother's hand, but he knew that this journey was his and his alone. "I'll be alright Big Brother, and I'll come back to you," he smiled at Doubar sensing his concern. Turning to Cairpra he said, "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"With my magic I will send you into her dreams again Sinbad. You will recognize some of them, you've been there before. But there is so much more that you will see, and more that you will wish you did not see. These things are never pleasant. I will understand if you do not wish to go." She gave him another opportunity to reconsider.

He shook his head, "Maeve needs me," It was all he had to say.

* * *

A/N: Ok, so it's a bit short, but I wanted to separate it from the next chapter. I hope you'll forgive me, I'll try to get another chapter out before the long weekend (I'm Canadian, it's Thanksgiving and I'm also sick, have pity on me, hehe).

And your reviews are well appreciated! Thank-you to everyone for all the great comments on the last chapter! I hope you all don't mind taking a dark trip down memory lane with Maeve and Sinbad, cuz that's what's coming up. I have a very elaborate past made up in my mind for Maeve that I will be using as the background for this fic, and will eventually post as a fic all on it's own. I hope you all keep reading! And I hope you like what i come up with.

Oh ya! I'm glad someone thinks I'm a genius lol (Thanks Vesperia).


	10. Chapter 10

After some preparation, Cairpra was prepared to cast her spell. That morning found Sinbad sharing a bed with the Celtic sorceress, but it wasn't at all like he had fantasized it would be. Five pairs of eyes watched him attentively, 3 men, 1 sorceress and a hawk. He lay there awkwardly beside Maeve, the bunks were quite small, typical of crews quarters. Cairpra had instructed him to lie beside her as she thought it would be better for them to be physically close in the material world in case one of them needed to act as the anchor for the other. Sinbad didn't really understand what she meant, but he had been willing to do anything she asked. He glanced to his side, looking at Maeve's sweat beaded brow. He would help her through this.

Subtly, so that it would not draw attention from the others, he let his hand drift over to where hers lay beside him. He curled his fingers around hers for support, needing to feel her. He was not looking forward to this. Turning to the other side, he looked over at his brother and vowed that he would succeed on this mission, both for Maeve and for Doubar's sake.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed, as Cairpra had instructed him. It was difficult to accomplish considering all the factors in play right now. But eventually, Sinbad allowed his mind to focus on one image that always brought him pleasure. Her eyes would always hold him captive. His mind drifted, and he fell asleep.

* * *

When Sinbad opened his eyes, he was surrounded by darkness. Only after considerable blinking did he manage to see the flicker of light cast by various fires. He became instantly aware of the hard earth beneath his back, a stark difference to the comfortable pallet of Maeve's quarters. He sat up. The darkness was lifting from his mind, and he realized that it had been a trick of his eyes, for the moon shone so brightly this night that nothing was obscured. 

He gasped in recognition of the scene before him. He stood quickly. Bodies lay scattered, limbs severed, the town was decimated. The raiders had moved on already. Here and there a few townspeople were picking through the ruins, looking for loved ones. Their cries echoed throughout the village. Sinbad was thankful at least not to be viewing this from Maeve's perspective this time. He looked around, suddenly aware that she should be here too.

He noticed a large structure set back from the others. It backed onto the forest. Sinbad had not seen it with his eyes before, but he recognized it nonetheless. Fire was still licking through the dry boards, almost nothing remained but the solid frame of what was once her home. He started towards the structure, wondering what he would do when he found her. His eyes searched for a child, remembering that she would be about 8 years old. He was still some distance from the home when he saw her emerge from the back of the house.

Her face was as white as alabaster and she cradled the babe like he was a gift from heaven. Her appearance caused Sinbad to falter for a moment as he watched her. For all her amazon-like stature as an adult, Maeve had been a very fragile looking child. Her delicate face, framed by a halo of short fiery ringlets, looked like it belonged to an elf or faerie. Her milky complexion was marred by dirt, or ash, he didn't know. She walked aimlessly, her steps faltering. She scanned the land before her. Her eyes moved right through him, as though he weren't there. She seemed so lost.

Sinbad approached her quickly, calling out to her softly. But she did not respond. She walked right past him without acknowledging him. He briefly wondered how on earth Cairpra expected him to help her, when she could not even see him.

So instead of helping, he stood beside her while she stood paralyzed by what she saw. Her face was a familiar mask of stone that he recognized from their time on the Nomad, now etched upon childish features. Only Sinbad knew what lay beneath that mask; he had felt it. She made a move towards the village, but stumbled forward, landing sharply on her knees. She cried out in pain, but did not lose her grip on the babe. She made to stand up again, but again, her knees buckled, and she could not move.

Sinbad realized that she had not tripped, but that her joints had given out on her. Belatedly he realized she was in shock. He rushed to her side, but could offer no support or assistance. He reached out to her, but his hand passed right through her. As he stared at the appendage, he wondered briefly if he was the ghost in this landscape, or if she was. He cursed himself for not knowing what he should be doing. This was not like any of his other adventures where he felt much more in control. Where the demons were obvious and could be fought with steel. Here, he felt utterly useless.

He watched her face closely. She didn't seem to be blinking. She turned her head to look at the burning home at her back. Her whole body shuddered as if it were freezing. Sinbad watched as slowly, a great black stallion emerged from where it had been hiding and approached the child. It nuzzled her face, and blew air through her hair as it whinnied softly.

"Arlan" he heard her whisper as gently as a dove. She had not moved to get up from the ground, and as the horse repeatedly nuzzled her, she began to cry silently against its soft nose. Sinbad watched as the tears ran down her cheeks in rivers. She barely made a sound as she cried, and she made no move to touch the horse. The display saddened Sinbad as he realized she had lost everything today. He choked on his own emotions.

The large beast suddenly kneeled in front of Maeve, and she pulled herself and the baby onto its broad back. Wrapping one arm in his silky mane, and cuddling the baby with the other, Maeve leaned forward and hugged the horse's neck. She closed her eyes. The tears continued to flow from behind her thick lashes. Sinbad watched dumbly as the beast began to rise and walk slowly away from the scene of death. It marched towards the forest carrying its precious burden as she bled from invisible wounds.

Sinbad was about to follow them when another child caught his attention. She walked purposefully, through the bodies of the dead and dying, making her way towards the burning house. Sinbad stared at her in shock. His eyes had trouble recognizing the small form, but his heart knew her instantly. It was his Maeve, appearing as the child she once was. He didn't know how he knew it. It seemed obvious to him. She met his gaze as she walked up the path towards him.

"You're here," she said sadly.

"Aye," he replied softly, "We're going to get out of here together Maeve."

She turned her doe eyes to him then, framed in the face of an 8 year old girl, those eyes knew too much to belong there.

"Did I do this?" She seemed fearful of the answer.

"No, Cairpra sent me here, to help you get out."

"Get out?" she said despondently, repeating the words as if she didn't understand what he meant. Still looking into his eyes she said, "There is no where to go where I will forget myself." Looking into her sad eyes, Sinbad fought the urge to scoop her up into his arms and cradle her as he would have any other child. But he had to remind himself that despite her disguise, she was not a child, and would not react well to being treated like one.

"No, but you can still overcome this," he responded, looking around him he gestured to the blackened village, "all of this. It doesn't have to control you anymore." He spoke with a conviction that he didn't really feel, hoping it would help motivate her.

As they stood there, a deafening rumble met their ears as the ground suddenly started to shake. Lines became blurred and the landscape seemed to bend and buckle as the memory they stood in began to destroy itself. It seemed logical to Sinbad since Maeve had already left the scene, this was not part of her memory, and so, it did not exist in her mind. Sinbad suddenly felt light as his feet left the ground. A grey mist began to seep in surrounding him and Maeve.

"Sinbad!" she cried out as she lost her connection to this memory and slipped into the formless void. She cursed herself for not being able to control her own mind better. He reached out, clasping his large hand over her small fingers, so they would not lose one another in the dense swirling mass of fog.

Sinbad looked around them, trying to see through the haze. Here and there it would clear and he caught glimpses of scenes that were not familiar to him. Scenes from Maeve's past, these were her memories he realized. Then just as quickly as they appeared, the fog would swirl back and reclaim that piece of her.

Sinbad realized that this was where they would win or lose this fight. At any moment Maeve could be captured by one of these memories. She was drawn to the dark ones… but somewhere in this void, Sinbad knew her happy memories lay. And if he could just find them… and bring Maeve into them, then maybe, just maybe, they would make it out of this place.

* * *

A/N: Ok ladies and gents, that's it till next week! Have a great weekend everyone and don't forget to review! 


	11. Chapter 11

The fog began to dissipate and Sinbad felt his feet make contact with a hard surface again. His hand still clutched Maeve's, and she freed herself of him abruptly. He glanced over at her worried, she still wore the disguise of a child, slightly older, but that was not what concerned him. He was worried by her act of breaking their contact, and the expression she now wore. It was a mixture of anger, sadness, and fear.

They stood inside her home. It had been rebuilt after the raid. The only evidence of that dark night that lingered was in the blackened frame of the building, the thick old wood that had survived the fire had not been replaced. The large open room felt cold to Sinbad, though it was clearly summer in Eire and the sun was beating down warmly outside.

The backdoor opened quietly as a young Maeve shuffled in. She was a few years older than in her last memory. She carried a pail of water with her, which she placed in the middle of the floor. Though her body had only aged 3 years, she seemed much older to Sinbad. She began mopping the floor distractedly. Sinbad couldn't help but notice the deep purple bruises on her arms and legs, some new, some old, and he frowned wondering how she had acquired so many. Despite the marks, she was a pretty child, and Sinbad thought it was obvious even then, that she would grow into a beauty. He wondered what she was thinking. Looking towards the Maeve who stood by his side, he wondered what she was thinking as well.

Maeve watched herself scuffle her feet as she carried the heavy water pail inside. She was acutely aware of Sinbad's presence beside her. It was unsettling. What would he think of her when he saw everything? She took in her former self's appearance. Her hair was messy, unruly curls circling her head and down her back. Her mother had always cut her hair as a child, keeping the curls short. This Maeve's hair had not been cut since her mother's death. She wore a simple off-white dress, typical of peasants. It was tattered in several places, the stitching was worn, and it had several stains which no amount of scrubbing had ever been able to remove. Having neither wealth nor distinction, she wore no bobbles, and no jewellery. She wore only a few twisted pieces of twine passing as a bracelet wrapped around her wrist, a gift from a friend. A small leather pouch rested at her hip, its long strap circling her neck and resting on her opposite shoulder; it carried the insignificant treasures of her childhood. She still had that pouch today. It now carried the thread-bare bracelet as well.

She wondered what Sinbad was thinking of her. She knew he had grown up without parents as well, that pain they shared. But the similarity ended there. He had lost his parents before he even knew them. The pain it caused him was one of emptiness, of longing and not knowing what he was missing. Maeve had always been acutely aware of what she lost that night. And she lived with that scar daily.

And unlike herself, Fortune had smiled on Sinbad and Doubar early. They had connections, and with that came comfortable living and wealth; she doubted he had ever worn something as dirty as the tattered and stained dress her double was wearing. A part of her felt ashamed and she didn't quite understand why. She had never cared for the opinions of others, including Sinbad's. She felt his eyes on her now, and she refused to look at him. She was afraid of what she would see in those eyes. If she had been able to read his mind, she would have found that Sinbad was making no judgments about her past standard of living, he was however, very concerned about her.

The shade of Maeve continued her chore. Accidentally she backed into a chair and knocked it over. The tranquility of the moment shattered as her face took on a pained look. She looked towards a closed door down the hall, holding her breath.

Sinbad wondered what was going on, but he didn't have to wait long. Barely a second had passed when a thundering voice sounded behind that door. It cursed loudly at her. She shrank back towards the corner in terror as the door flew open. There stood a Celt, a mountain of a man who could easily dwarf Doubar. Sinbad sucked in his breath.

"What n'a hells wrong with ya! Worthless whelp! Can't even do som'thin' simple withou' makin' such a racket! After all I done fer ya! I'll teach ya to wake me up!!" He slurred his words as he advanced upon the child, drawing his belt threateningly off his body. He had the stench of mead on him.

Sinbad bristled. He was ready to attack.

The man raised his belt, and Sinbad lunged at him. But he sailed right through the Celt and landed in an unceremonious heap in the middle of the floor. His Maeve moved to help him stand.

"There's no use Sinbad," she told him, "this has already happened remember."

But Sinbad wasn't ready to listen yet. He tried desperately to grab onto that slab of an arm and hold it away from the child cowering in the corner. His natural response was to protect her. But she was right, it was no use.

The belt cracked down hard across her back and shoulders. Sinbad watched on horrified. He had been beaten only once as a child, before he and Doubar had been taken in by Dim Dim. It was a memory he tried to forget, but found impossible. He realized that Maeve had likely been beaten many times, and had a vague understanding of why it was so hard for her to let go of these memories. It was still a bitter one for him.

The shade of Maeve cried out repeatedly. Sinbad saw small traces of blood appearing from under the white dress she wore. He realized that the dress was stained from previous beatings, and that she had tried to scrub away the evidence.

Sinbad watched helplessly, his eyes flickered towards his Maeve. She had not said a word since helping him stand, but he now found her eyes watching him. She averted her gaze at that moment, to look at her enraged Uncle.

"That's Taldor," she told him while not looking at him. "My father's brother. Took up the farm after he died." She told him matter-of-factly still not meeting his eyes.

Sinbad was speechless. Her own uncle? He was disgusted and it showed in his fine features. He no longer felt up to this job. He heard his mentor's voice in his head, "_The wounds in her heart are as deep as the wounds in yours…"_ and he suddenly realized that for once, Dim Dim had been very wrong. Maeve's wounds ran much deeper, and Sinbad wondered how they could ever be healed.

The beating was finally over. Taldor looped his leather belt back onto his body. Without a glance, he turned back to his room. Passing the bucket he spit out viciously, "Finish yer work!," before disappearing into his room. The door slammed shut. The only sound in the main room was Maeve's laboured breathing as she clung to the wall for support.

Minutes passed before shakily, she got to her feet. She braced herself against the wall using one hand. Sinbad winced in sympathy as she took a step that clearly pained her, followed by another… and then another. He and Maeve stood silently while her shadow finished mopping the floor, then carried the dirty water outside. Sinbad felt a swell of anger building inside him at the injustice he had just witnessed. He wanted to lash out and hit something. Taldor. But that would never be possible.

Maeve watched herself, trying to lock away the bitterness that seeped into her heart. Taldor had been less than an ideal caretaker as a child that much was obvious. He had been unpredictable, spontaneous and sometimes creative in his acts of cruelty. He had stolen her laughter she thought bitterly. That beautiful sound that all children make who are loved, safe, and nurtured. The innocent sound that came with the belief that you could do anything, and that everything was possible if you just believed in yourself. She still hadn't reclaimed that laugh.

They followed the shadow outside. It was instantly warm and sunny. Sinbad looked around in wonder at the lush green expanse behind her home. He'd never been to Ireland, the Emerald Isle he'd heard it called. The stories had not been exaggerated. It was all true. There was so much beauty in the landscape. Green fields rolled softly right up to the forest line. It seemed so peaceful. This foreign land suited Maeve.

The shade dumped the water bucket seemingly unaware of the beauty around her. Sinbad noted that aside from favouring her sore spots, she appeared unfazed by the beating, and for some reason, that depressed him.

Maeve watched without interest, distracted by her inner dialogue. She knew that her shadow was considering strolling into the forest to rest by the old Rowan Tree that she used to love so much. She glanced at Sinbad, who had not said a word or done much of anything since his failed attempt to keep her shadow safe. What was there to say to one another anyway she thought briefly. She preferred the silence.

As the shade strolled off towards the forest Sinbad noticed the black stallion from years earlier grazing out in the field. It was a magnificent animal he thought as he watched it. Catching the direction of his eye, Maeve too looked on the form of her long lost companion.

"That's Arlan," she told Sinbad.

"Your horse?" he asked her.

"My friend," she replied with a smile, catching Sinbad's eye for the first time since they arrived. She looked mildly embarrassed for the comment and looked away quickly.

Sinbad returned her smile. Her response was so typically Maeve, and he was happy to see that spark return to her eye. She would never, could never, assume ownership over another creature. It was part of what Sinbad admired about her. She made him think, question himself, and realize that there was more to everything than meets the eye… including horses… and hawks… and even sorcerer's apprentices.

Casting a glance at Maeve's profile, he wondered if she wanted to follow her shadow into the forest, but Maeve was fixated on Arlan at the moment. A permanent frown seemed to have crept into her fine, childlike face. What was she thinking he wondered.

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. He reached for Maeve as the grey mist began to swirl around him. His feet did not leave contact with the ground this time however and he was thankful for small favours.

The mist swirled in violently, erasing every aspect of the land around them.

When it retreated, the landscape had changed drastically.

* * *

A/N: Hey hope everyone had a great weekend! Thanks again to my faithful reviewers! Sunny, I'm trying to keep you happy ;) and Simone thank you for that amazing compliment! blushes Hope I won't disappoint you! And thanks to everyone who is still reading (reviewing or not!)! I'm open to ideas about where to take this if anyone has any. 

I'm working on the next chapter, check back in a few days (hopefully by friday!)


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Ok, I figured I had made you guys wait long enough. Here's the next Chapter. I'm not really thrilled with it so I'd like to know what you guys think. I'm not even sure what I dislike, but maybe if you guys tell me what you didn't like, it'll help narrow it down and I can rewrite it. (I know I'm crazy!) Thank you to all the wonderful people who have reviewed so far!

* * *

Sinbad cautiously cracked an eye and looked around the dense forest they now found themselves in. Beside him, Maeve had aged considerably. She no longer had the thin frame of a young child, but the curvaceous form of a young woman. He tried not to notice. He guessed her to be about 17 years old. He was slightly off the mark however as Maeve was actually not yet 15. 

"Where are we?" he questioned his companion who had also aged in accordance with her shadow.

Maeve sighed loudly, "Somewhere I wish I wasn't… and somewhere you shouldn't be either," she replied tiredly.

"Maeve, look at me," he turned her to face him, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "Fight this, fight the hold it has on you. The past is only shadows now, let them remain as such." He spoke with such conviction that Maeve almost believed it possible. But she didn't know how to pull her mind away from these memories. She had spent so long fostering them that she didn't even know who she was without them. But she nodded her head in response to Sinbad as she willed her mind to show her something else. Something happy. But nothing changed. She looked at him with disappointment showing in her face.

Knowing how hard this was for her, he tried to ease her disappointment by saying, "It's ok, we'll keep trying."

At that moment, Sinbad was distracted by a sound in the distance. Crying. Maeve crying. Not a cry of pain, but of loss. Fearing what he would see, but compelled to know it, he moved towards the sound. Maeve followed behind, less eagerly. As they reached the small clearing, Maeve spied a familiar scene, one that broke her heart to relive.

Her shade lay draped across the magnificent black steed that had carried her and her brother from the burning home all those years ago. Recently, it had carried them for the last 6 months as she ran away from everything she had ever known, trying to escape and start a new life.

Maeve sadly recognized the futility of her actions. She had run so long and so far from her past, only to find she had brought it all with her. The miles she had put between herself and her homeland had done nothing to ease the pain. She had not left her burdens behind her, but carried them like a weight in her heart all these years. She focused her mind back on the beautiful horse.

Arlan lay on his side, breathing heavily. His front leg was contorted, broken; the result of traveling in the darkly lit forest at night, which they would not have had to do if they had not been pursued so closely. The beast huffed lightly, and the sound was strange, strangled by pain. Maeve sobbed over the creature's belly, hugging it and wiping her tears across its soft skin. Her younger brother, Dermott, sat silently beside her, wiping his own tears away.

Sinbad watched the heavy moment silently, recognizing the horse instantly, and knowing that it was suffering from a fatal fracture. Again he felt his heart go out to Maeve. He felt his eyes sting at the sound of her anguished cries. His gaze drifted from the shadow's face to the figure at her side. He did not recognize the young boy sitting by her, but realized it must be her brother. The baby she had saved from the fire. He was the right age, probably 9 or 10 Sinbad guessed.

He cast a curious gaze towards his own Maeve, lifting an eyebrow. She had never mentioned a brother before. The realization dawned on him, now that he stood facing the chestnut haired youth by her side, it was _only now_ that he really thought about it. The boy had lived. Maeve still had a brother. Somewhere. Unless something had since happened to him as well. Sinbad pushed that dark thought away abruptly, not wanting to deal with that possibility. _One thing at a time sailor_, he told himself. He brought his thoughts back to the sad scene at present.

His Maeve stood by his side, tears slid openly down her cheeks. Sinbad recalled a similar moment he shared with her before he had defeated the Vorgon. When they thought that Dermott had been taken away forever. Maeve had wept in front of him that day as well. Currently, he put his hands on her shoulders, as he had that day, turning her towards him. But he had no words of comfort for her this time, instead, he offered her the comfort of his arms.

Maeve felt Sinbad turning her towards him, away from Arlan. She wondered what he could possibly say to her at a time like this, only certain that whatever it was, it would be the wrong thing to say. But she was mistaken in that. He said nothing, only opened his arms to embrace her. Maeve allowed it. She felt his strong arms circle around her back and hold her tight. She welcomed his warmth.

The shade continued to sob, whispering softly to her fallen companion. Her heart twisted, knowing what she had to do, but unwilling to do it. Painfully, she moved to sit with Arlan's head in her lap. Her tears continued to fall as she stroked his neck, his ears, his cheek, his nose. She spoke softly, and the horse appeared to be listening attentively. Arlan would never move from this spot. The thought ripped her apart. Her heart broke for her dear friend. She tore a strip of cloth from her skirt, wrapping it softly around his eyes, blocking what little light they saw. Arlan whinnied softly, a plaintive noise. He knew.

The sky above opened up in a torrential downpour.

Dermott moved away from the horse, away from the sadness. Maeve continued to coo lightly and stroke her companion.

With the knife resting softly in her other hand she cried out everything she had left in her broken heart.

Sinbad and Maeve stumbled as the ground began to quake, losing their grip on one another. They were both caught off guard by the sudden decay of this memory. It was almost as though she had blocked the rest out of her mind afterwards. The swirling grey mass suddenly encompassed Sinbad, and he realized suddenly that Maeve was no longer near him. He reached around him wildly, turning around within this void. Gone.

Sinbad began to panic. He could float in this space forever without finding her. As pieces of her memories began to materialize and disappear before his eyes, he was caught by another unsettling thought. He didn't know how to get out without her. Defeat suddenly began weighing on his heart, and he fought it off. Cairpra had warned him about this. He knew he had to stay strong. Maeve was consumed by her dark thoughts right now, he had to stay strong for her. For both of them. He would have to lead them out of this. But how? He was beginning to doubt his ability. He had done nothing to help her so far.

He was contemplating what to do when a vivid memory passed by him. He couldn't help but be drawn to the image. There was so much familiarity in it. There was Maeve. This memory was much more recent. She looked about 20 years old already. Sinbad smiled as he recognized her. She looked very much like his Maeve. Her attire however, was strikingly different. She wore tight leather pants tucked into high boots, and a billowing white shirt tucked into the belt at her waist. She looked every inch the vixen. A short dagger protruded from her boot and one rested, clipped at her hip. She had no sword. Sinbad's grin faded as he recognized a second young female. The petit brunette witch stood facing Maeve. A group of young boys, ranging from 15 to 18 years old stood in chains at the evil sorceress' side. One of the boys was calling to Maeve. Sinbad realized this must have been Maeve's first brush with Rumina.

Suddenly, unintentionally, he found himself falling into this memory as the fog swirled around him, trapping him there, forcing him to bear witness to the past.

* * *

A/N: Ok, does anyone actually want me to write the whole Rumina scene? Or would you all be happy just knowing that he saw it (that means I'll leave it as it is and move onto Maeve's experience). So let me know what the readers want! 

BTW, updates may be a little slower, but I will finish this story because I've already got the sequel started and it's more fun for me to write than this one, so no worries that I'm not going to complete it! I've just got a lot on my plate, plus I've been kidnapped by XMen Movie fandom and that's never an easy thing to get away from lol.

Oh... and if someone could tell me how to italicize stuff on FFN please write it in your review to share this exciting information because it ALWAYS removes my italics and that's just rude!


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I am treating you all to a double header chapter. This thing is a beast, don't expect a repeat! Many of you will be familiar with the second portion of this chapter, I hope you like it anyway as it is really the reason I wrote the story and is crucial to the sequel... but enough spoilers! Special thanks to Space-Case and Samantha without which there would be no italics. Thanks guys! _

Due to popular demand, I wrote the Rumina scene. The format might confuse you this time around, I put Sinbad's experience first, and Maeve's afterwards, but just to remind you that she's off somewhere I added the paragraphs at the top. Hope it makes sense to you.

Stitch - As of right now Sinbad doesn't know the connection between Dermott the hawk vs the boy. He doesn't know Maeve's brother's name at this point.

Oh, and I make reference to the actual episodes, but I don't have the DVDs right now so I'm going off memory, forgive me, I'll fix it up when I watch the DVDs.

**Chapter 13**

_

* * *

_

_Suddenly, unintentionally, he found himself falling into this memory as the fog swirled around him, trapping him there, forcing him to bear witness to the past._

At that same moment, Maeve had moved into one of her darkest memories. And this she entered alone. She was immediately aware of the loss of Sinbad's presence. The comfort she had felt was gone. She felt isolated, the weight of her life seemed to be crushing her.

She saw herself, standing by the tree line as she had so many years ago. The snow and cold whipping around her. She felt this memory vividly. Felt herself merging with her past self. She would not be a passive observer in this memory. Sinbad, she realized, had kept her from slipping into the memories. But now he was not here, and she felt her mind being pulled, swept away by the current. She merged with her shadow seamlessly. She would experience this tortured memory all over again.

* * *

Sinbad landed unceremoniously on the hard earth. _Why me?_ He thought to himself as he rubbed his throbbing head. Entering and exiting the dreamscapes had been a lot less painful with Maeve by his side he mused. Getting up quickly he scanned his surroundings, searching for his Maeve, but finding himself surrounded only by those shadows of her past. It was such a warm and sunny summer day that Sinbad was finding it hard to believe that danger lurked here. But there she was. 

Rumina, looking as lovely and deadly as ever, stood in front of a group of young men, all clearly recent acquisitions. None of whom appeared to be enjoying their current state. Dressed in her typical half top and billowing Arabian pants, she let out her trademark laugh, letting her eyes skip merrily around the deserted marketplace. "Does this mean no one else will be joining my little entourage today?" She pouted at the empty space in her sultry voice. Looking behind her she smiled at her haul. She had enough to keep her entertained for a few days anyway. She would dispose of them when they no longer amused her. Behind her, the young men were yelling for help from their families and fellow villagers. She rubbed her temples lightly with the tips of her slender fingers suddenly wondering if this village had any attractive mutes.

Turning to face her collection she addressed them, "You might as well give up now and start trying to impress me. You will find that I can be quite generous, if my demands are met. So start now, as we are going to be spending a lot of time together. You will all be my, close, close friends."

Sinbad grimaced at the speech. Exactly how long had Rumina been practicing that one anyway?

She smiled wickedly as she prepared to march the boys out of town to where her portal was. She frowned as she spied the silvery blue energy portal in the distance. Although she was the daughter of a powerful sorcerer, she was still a young witch herself, and still learning the ways of magic. One day she would be able to transport an entire army with her magic without the use of portals and other silly spells. She smiled as she thought about that. When that day came, she would be known as Rumina, the most powerful sorceress in the world, rather than the daughter of Turok. Her lineage would cease to be a factor.

Her smile grew as she engaged in her fantasy while she led the group of struggling youth behind her. The chain that held them was small, but bewitched, they would never break free on their own, and their struggles would not slow her pace either.

Looking at the handful of youths, Sinbad gasped in shock as he suddenly recognized one. He stared hard, trying to decide if he was right or not. He had been a boy in the last memory, and had since grown into a young man. A very young man, maybe 15 or 16 years old. Sinbad stared at him, his appearance was extremely different, tall and lean, no childhood softness remained, chiseled features, facial hair dotted his face proving the passage of time. But the truth stared him in the face. This was Maeve's brother.

Sinbad looked back towards the dark sorceress in shock. What had she done to him? His mind ran over all the possible outcomes of this scenario. His mind was making connections he preferred to ignore. Really, she'd left hints from the first adventure they went on. He was just a little too slow to put it all together until now.

"_The daughter is still alive," Maeve commented distractedly._

"_How do you know?"_

"_Just look at Dermott."_

"_He looks the same to me," he replied, confused by her statement._

"_Exactly," she responded with a tremor of sorrow._

Sinbad looked up, seeing Maeve step out from behind a building to block Rumina's path. Could it be? Their mutual protectiveness, the closeness, the deep bond they shared. Sinbad's heart jack hammered in his chest. He felt his chest tightening as one particular outcome became more and more likely.

"_Rumina isn't dead, is she Maeve?"_

_She responded by shaking her head and stroking her pet._

"_Maeve, I don't know how you, Rumina, and Dermott are connected, but I promise you, we will defeat her, or die trying."_

"_I know Sinbad, I know"_

"Dermott?" Sinbad whispered as he stared at the young man, daring to speak his suspicions out loud. He prayed to Allah that he was jumping to the wrong conclusions.

Rumina was so wrapped up in her thoughts of world domination that she hardly noticed the figure that moved directly into her path until she all but fell over the girl.

"You clumsy COW!" She screeched in outrage that this interloper hadn't moved out of her path.

Undaunted by her fury, the opposing female stated calmly, "They aren't going anywhere with you!"

"And just who is going to stop me?" The young witch paused to laugh happily at the audacity of this peasant. "You?" She asked, batting her pretty eyes, at the tall woman. Who did she think she was anyway. Didn't this commoner know that she was Rumina! Daughter of Turok!! Soon to be the most powerful sorceress in the world! That thought made her smile again. It didn't matter. By the end of the day, she would know all that and more.

"That's right," Maeve replied, her eyes never moving from Rumina's, her face stone cold and serious, "just me."

Rumina's smile faltered. Her eyes narrowed. This peasant was going down. Hard.

"Take your best shot!" Rumina replied, her voice laced with steel, one hand already shooting out at the girl with a red energy ball. "Oops! Too slow!" she laughed happily.

Maeve fell hard under the sudden attack, a cry of pain leaving her body. Having never been confronted by magic she didn't know what to expect. Her eyes fixed on the witch. Rumina merely laughed at the grounded figure before her. This battle was already over as far as she was concerned.

"Maeve!!" Her brother shouted out of fear and concern. "Leave me! She's too powerful! She'll kill you!" He shouted.

"You should listen to him," Rumina smirked.

Maeve grunted in response still trying to regain her strength. She was hardly going to let this floozy walk away with the only family she had left. "I'll be fine Dermott!" She replied sharply, irritated by his lack of faith.

Sinbad's eyes widened in shock at having his suspicions confirmed. Dermott, the boy, her brother, his name was Dermott! Her brother was, no IS, Dermott! His mind reeled in shock. Why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't she confided in him with that knowledge? The concealment stung him with the realization that she hadn't told him because she still didn't trust him. With her life maybe, but not with her secrets. He felt like he'd been sucker punched. He watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding.

Rumina walked calmly past the fallen girl, marching towards the silvery blue portal crackling in the distance. She was halfway there when Maeve managed to pick herself up off the ground.

"Not today witch!" Maeve shouted as she lifted the dagger from her hip and flung it at the sorceress.

Rumina spun around at the noise, raising her arm prepared to blast her opponent again. The dagger whistled through the air, cutting into the sheer fabric on the arm of Rumina's dress just beneath her raised arm. Although the knife had missed its target, had Rumina not moved so unexpectedly, she would have been struck dead on. Sinbad's jaw dropped for the second time. He had not known that he had two experienced knife throwers in his crew. Apparently it was a skill Maeve chose to keep hidden. Another secret he thought.

But a near death experience seemed the furthest thing from Rumina's mind as she gazed at the hole in her outfit. She let out a scream of outrage, "You stupid peasant! This outfit costs more than your LIFE!" She let out a barrage of energy beams intent on destroying the girl. Each blast, accompanied by a shriek of anger, weakened the petit brunette a little more.

Maeve ducked and dodged this time, avoiding the deadly strikes more easily than the first one. She raced past Rumina intending to block her from reaching the portal. Maeve drew the dagger from her boot and stood her ground before the swirling blue gateway that would take Rumina home. She flung the dagger towards Rumina's left hand which gripped the chain of struggling men. Rumina cried out in pain as the blade sliced through her hand causing her to release the chain that held the boys.

Rumina stared at the blood on her fingers, clutching her injured hand. She was outraged by the attack, the cocky smirk the red-head wore now, and the avoidance of her blasts, that she hardly noticed where Maeve was standing. With a cry of pure rage and frustration she let loose a powerful blast that would have rocked an entire city.

Sinbad noted that Rumina herself seemed surprised by the force of the blast and the strength that it carried.

Maeve executed a tuck and roll that saved her hide by mere inches. The energy beam struck the portal dead on, absorbing the deadly blow. Moments later, the gate began glowing and pulsing until it finally imploded on itself due to the energy disruption. The light was blinding causing everyone to shield their eyes for protection. When it cleared, there was no portal, and no Maeve.

Rumina shrieked in anger again, looking wildly around for the peasant who deserved death. She'd never been so enraged in her entire life until a moment later when a sharp elbow planted itself in her upper back, causing her to trip and stumble forward. Her head made a sickening noise as it made contact with a small boulder that littered the ground. She didn't move.

The previously dropped chain now shriveled until it was nothing more than a piece of string, of which the boys easily rid themselves. All but one ran off towards the safety of the village.

Maeve stood over Rumina's fallen form, gloating, "Told ya ye weren't taken them anywheres," she spit at the brunette. "C'mon Dermott, let's get outta here," she said as she reached out to touch her brother's shoulder, both of them turning to walk back into town. Looking back at the crumpled brunette, Maeve couldn't help but add insult to injury. "And the name's Maeve," she threw over her shoulder at the slowly rousing sorceress, "don't forget it!"

But Maeve had overestimated the effect of the mild concussion on Rumina, and underestimated Rumina's rage. Drawing herself up, Rumina stretched one hand towards the woman, engulfing her in a red electrical pulse that held her still. Dermott dodged out of the way just in time. Maeve's heart pounded in her chest as she realized her predicament.

"Let her go!" Dermott yelled with more confidence than he felt. Not daring to approach the sorceress.

Rumina just laughed wickedly. She began to chant, her voice rising a little with each line she finished. Maeve struggled to free herself from the grip of the magic, but she couldn't. Her heartbeat drowned out the sounds of Rumina's words and her brother's cries.

Sinbad felt his heart pounding in time with Maeve's, fearing for her safety.

As the spell neared its completion, Rumina raised her other arm and pointed it towards Maeve as a ball of black energy forming in her palm. Maeve stared wide eyed in terror, realizing she had no way of escaping. But as Rumina released her terrible spell, Maeve's terrified looked mutated into one of horror as she recognized Dermott's body leaping in front of her own. The ball of black energy struck him in the chest and he flew backwards into Maeve sending both of them to the ground.

Rumina collapsed on the ground breathing heavily. Today had been quite a strain on her energy. She barely had enough left to maintain consciousness. Looking towards the red-headed peasant, she frowned deeply. She was still there. She should be dead! Why couldn't she ever get that spell right! But even as Rumina pondered her failure, the boy caught her attention. His form pulsated with the black energy she had shot forth.

Rumina watched with glee as his body began to shrink, his head became pointed, and feathers began sprouting. She laughed hysterically at the look on the red-heads face. This was even better than what she had planned, she thought to herself as the boy became a beast. Rumina found the concept compelling, and made a note to experiment with it again.

Still laughing from her spot on the ground Rumina called out icily to Maeve, "And the name is Rumina! I'm certain YOU won't EVER forget it!" And with a wave of her manicured hand, she disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Maeve to stare at the still transforming form of her brother.

Sinbad watched in shock as a familiar brown hawk shook off the last vestiges of his human clothing and stared forlornly at his sister who was a crumpled mess of tears.

"Dermott, forgive me," she whispered softly to him through tears. "It's all my fault. It's all my fault!" She repeated over, and over. Sinbad watched miserably as once again, he was unable to comfort the woman he now knew, he loved.

* * *

Maeve's sharp eyes scanned the tree line from her hiding position. The snow fell thickly, covering their footsteps nicely, but perhaps not enough. The next thicket was but 150 feet away, but to risk stepping into the open and betraying their location was not something she was ready to do. Wearily she crouched in the snow… cold, wet, tired and hungry. Dermott shivered against her body, their cloaks unable to block out the frigid Eire winter. At barely 15 years of age she felt so old… so ugly, and spent. She couldn't remember a time when she didn't feel this way. She couldn't remember the happy times of her young childhood, when her Mother and Father loved her. Now eight months of starvation and desperation had further pushed all that was warm from her mind. She lived in the moment now. Lived for Dermott alone. She had nothing else. Glancing down at her brother's chilled form, her face softened slightly. 

"Dermott" she whispered in the silence that filled the field. "If I tell you to run, I want you to head straight for those trees over there," she told him while pointing to the southern end of the tree line. "Don't look back, don't wait for me, and don't stop running until your legs give out. Do you understand me?" Looking up at her face, the 9 year old nodded obediently. He knew when to listen to her. She was the closest thing to a mother he had ever known. And she was certainly the only person who had ever cared for him.

He did not fully know who pursued them, or why. He knew only that many moons ago, Maeve had plucked him from his bed late at night, to flee. She had been frantic that night, as they galloped away from the only home either of them had ever known on Arlan. Bringing nothing with them but the clothes on their backs, they fled under the cover of night. She hadn't revealed to him the events that lead to their flight, but the blood that stained her clothing told him enough. He realized that Annachie must be dead, ere they would not be traveling alone now. Arlan's death a couple moons ago had seriously slowed their progress. Maeve no longer allowed them to rest in towns or even buy food anymore. They stayed to the outskirts where they would not be seen, and only at night would they enter town to scavenge crumbs to eat.

Maeve stood slowly, to get a better view of the long clearing. Far in the distance she heard the snapping of a twig. "Run," the word escaped her lips barely above a whisper, as she clearly heard the twang of an arrow being shot from behind them. Dermott took off for the clearing, listening to Maeve's instructions not to stop. Behind him he heard the far off sound of horses closing the distance to his beloved sister. He prayed for her.

The first arrow struck the tree beside Maeve's head. With a growl she ripped it from the bark and loaded it onto her own bow and directed it back at the sender. With deadly precision, she dispatched the first rider. But in that instance another arrow lodged itself in her upper thigh, causing her to cry out in pain and drop one knee to the ground. With another savage cry she wrenched this one from her bloodied leg and again, returned it to rest with its owner. They still outnumbered her 4 to 1 as they galloped ever closer. Maeve realized she couldn't outrun them and make it to the thicket. But turning back and leaving Dermott was not an option either. She stood for a moment, indecision ripping through her mind. She took off in a sprint towards the thicket, noting thankfully that she could not see her brother, which meant he had already cleared the distance. The pain in her thigh was almost unbearable as she put her weight on her leg in an effort to run. She heard the twang of another arrow behind her. Closing her eyes, she prayed that the Goddess would protect her. But it was in vain. Her left shoulder exploded in pain as the arrow cleared a path straight through her body. Her steps faltered, and she fell to the snow covered ground. The thick snow already covering the traces of her blood, and her existence.

Still on the ground she turned to face her attackers. She drew her staff to protect herself, but the pain in her arm prevented her from making much use of it. They surrounded her instantly, like wolves hungry for the kill.

Vicar dismounted first. Her betrothed. The monster she had been sold to for a handful of pigs. The much older man trudged towards her, snow clinging to his thick black boots. His cold laugh filled the field, "My little mouse seems to have been caught finally" he stated. With a cry of rage Maeve swung her staff at the cruel face mocking her. He easily sidestepped this blow, knocking the stick from her hands, and followed it with a violent backhand to her face. Maeve's skin broke under the buckles on his glove. She felt blood trickle down the side of her head, as she lay injured on the snow.

"Now, now, let's be reasonable here," he looked at her coldly. "This doesn't have to end badly, if you would just return with me, and become my wife… as I was promised."

Maeve looked up at her captor with malice in her eyes "I'd rather die," she stated boldly.

"THAT CAN BE ARRANGED," Vicar bellowed as his boot delivered a swift blow to Maeve's side, breaking a few ribs and puncturing her lung. Maeve writhed in pain, gasping for breath. The realization sunk in, that she would die here, and Dermott would be alone. She began coughing up blood. "You know," said Vicar cruelly; looking over her now bruised, bloodied and crumpled form, "You're not as beautiful as I used to think." Kneeling down in front of her, he lifted her face toward him to inspect further.

"Last chance little mouse," he whispered for her ears only, "Just say yes, and it will all be a bad dream."

Maeve couldn't control the bile forming in her throat at the thought that this man might ever touch her. Broken and mangled, frustrated and defeated, her anger peaked. As an answer, she forcefully spit in his face, decorating it with her saliva and blood.

Vicar stood up, wiping the liquid from his face. "You three," he commanded the men still standing in a semi-circle, "Find the boy, bring him back here… alive." Then with a cruel sneer towards Maeve he stated, "I'm going to let you watch him die first, just like your precious Annachie." As the three men rode off, Vicar pulled out a handkerchief to resume cleaning his face. He turned his back on Maeve.

"You may kill me here, but you will live knowing that you could never OWN ME!" she vehemently spit at him.

"I will kill you here, my dear." He corrected her.

"You won't get away with this," Maeve breathed quietly.

"I already have," he stated honestly. "Who will miss you when you and your brother are dead? Hmm??" He turned to face her. "Your Uncle?" He laughed cruelly. Maeve glared at him menacingly. He laughed louder. "No one will even question me when I tell them you were not to be found. Or better yet, that you had killed yourself and your brother because of the shame you've brought your family by running away and whoring around. Indeed Little Mouse, there are many good tales I could tell that no one would question. Because no one cares if you live or die." His statement was true, and Maeve knew it to be so. All she and Dermott had were each other.

She felt the cold creeping into her bones. As he turned away from her once more, looking for his men to return with her brother, Maeve summoned the last ounce of strength she had in her thin undernourished frame. Withdrawing the dagger she always carried in her boot, she pounced on his back, accurately slamming the knife into his jugular. She collapsed onto the ground as Vicar grasped desperately at his neck, his life force flowing freely from his veins. He looked at her in shock as he fell lifelessly to the ground.

The silence was chilling. Maeve begged her body to move, to stand again. She forced herself up onto one knee, one hand on the ground to steady herself. But the pain overtook her. Her vision began to swim. She had lost so much blood already. She didn't have the strength to save Dermott.

As she collapsed once more onto the snow covered earth, she let out a desperate sob. All the anger, the frustration, the fear and longing she had lived with for so long, all for nothing. She was destined to die here, in this cold unholy spot. In the silence she screamed to her gods and goddesses, the wood dwellers and the Fey folk, and any that would hear her, "I did not come this far to die HERE!!!" She yelled with anger and force. A tear slid down her bloodied and bruised cheek as again she whispered, "I did not come this far to die now…" She closed her eyes, the guilt of leaving her brother defenseless overwhelming her.

Then out of the silence, came his voice. "Well, well, well, what have we here," said the raspy voice of Evil Incarnate. Maeve's eyes snapped open, her vision focused on the hideous visage of the one demon feared by all in the West.

"Scratch," she said his name. She knew him immediately.

"I thought I heard a desperate soul calling for me. Was, was that you?" he hobbled over to her on his goat legs.

"Be gone demon, I want nothing from you. Let me die in peace," she turned her head away in disgust.

"Why die at all?" he stated. "Why not choose life, and go save your brother?"

Maeve made a sound that almost passed for laughter as she said, "And let me guess, you'd do that out of the goodness of your heart demon? I will not trade my immortal soul for a few more minutes in this cruel world." Her breathing became heavily laboured then, as the blood began to pool in her lungs.

"Yes, you're right, my methods can be a bit tiresome even to me," he stated as if responding to some internal dialogue with himself. The demon continued, "What say you, we make this little deal more interesting then? I'll give you a fighting chance to keep your soul. How do you like the sound of that?" He jumped excitedly from one foot to the other. "What say you?!?" he demanded her response immediately, knowing that her soul was slipping away even as they spoke, and soon it would be out of his reach permanently.

Her dull eyes looked at him. She was too weak to waste her voice on him. So he explained his proposition in full, "I will save your life now, if you but make one promise to me. If you keep your promise your whole life through, then you keep your soul when you die. BUT… if you break your promise… you forfeit your soul, and it becomes mine immediately! Now… what say you??"

"What promise?" she croaked.

"Never give yourself completely to any man. Never fall in love and give your whole heart, mind and body to a single man." He had a vicious twinkle in his eye as he spoke.

"That be all?" she asked.

"That's it! Simple isn't it!" he stated happily with a raise of his arms. "Or you can die here, and in 5 minutes, those men will find your brother, bring him back here and slaughter him, and your story will end. Make your choice wisely … Little Mouse…" He mocked her with Vicar's phrase. Maeve turned away again, her logical self raging against her fear of death. To trust the Demon. To make a deal with the devil. Surely there was more to it then he was letting on. It seemed so easy. Never love a man completely. She thought of her beloved Annachie; dead and gone forever. "I will never love again anyway," she stated.

Scratches ears perked up. "Do we have a deal then?" he coaxed excitedly.

"Yes," she whispered, the word was carried up by the winds and lost to all but Scratch. She closed her eyes as the demon began to laugh. Her heart grew heavy, as she struggled for her last breath, she looked imploringly at the demon crouched beside her. Looked at him to save her. She hated herself for it.

He patted her on the head and said, "I will bring you back to life and conquer your mortal wounds, but don't think I'm about to rob myself of the pleasure of watching something beautiful die." Maeve panicked as she choked on her blood, and finally her breathing stilled. Staring up at the sky, her eyes glazed over, and the fire that once burned within, extinguished.

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A/N: Ok, that updae better hold you guys over for a couple weeks! Let me know how you liked it! Now, onto the corny shout-outs/ honourable mentions that I intend to make... 

Space-Case - your suggestion that Sinbad make the connection on his own is what inspired me to write it that way, Great idea, thanks! I hope you liked my spin on it.

Simone - I really appreciate the compliment and I hope the next chapters don't disappoint you!

Skye - naughty girl, get back to the Coven and play with me! And I'm glad you liked that paragraph, that's one of the ones I wanted to scrap cuz I hate it. We can discuss later lol.

Samantha - Maeve coping with her anger is definately going to be a theme in this storyline so I hope you like how it ends!

Stitch - I love your enthusiasm, it's really exciting for me to know that people are enjoying the story so much. It makes me want to write faster for you. Thank you for the review!

Ila88 - I'm so happy you're sticking with this story lol. Thank you for always reviewing, it's really awesome of you. And I know you'll like the sequel to this one, I'm looking forward to writing that one lol!

Vicki - thanks for joining the reviewers club! I hope you like this chapter and the ones that will follow


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: wow, long time no update, I know and I apologize! I don't know when the next one will come. But I will try to keep them semi long so you at least have something to read each time. Oh ya.. and this is the last ''sad'' memory I am subjecting you all to lol. I've had enough of sad what about you?

Star, as I sorta, kinda, promised, almost, eventually... here is the next chappy... for you ;)

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Chapter 14: Nightmares

Maeve felt a surge of rage explode inside her. How could she have been so stupid. Her mind raged as she tore out of that memory that burned her like acid. She flung herself into the grey void, holding onto the feelings that consumed her now. The cold, the unbearable icy fingers of death lingered on her. She tried to shake it off, ignore it, but she knew she was living on borrowed time. Stolen time. She had cheated death and the devil in turn had cheated her of her life. She wanted to believe he had tricked her, but deep down she knew it wasn't true. Deep down she knew she had welcomed this unholy pact into her life. And even deeper down, she felt that she deserved it. Deserved every tear she'd cried, every pain she'd suffered, every torment, every devastation, every lost chance at love. She was a poison to those she loved and who in turn loved her. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down inside. It was all her doing. Her fault.

Sinbad returned to the swirling grey void just in time to witness Maeve's sudden entry into it. He was troubled by what he had seen of her past, and what she had hidden from him all this time, but he had no time to dwell on it. She had disappeared from his view almost instantly, but he knew she was here. She was close. Looking down, his bracelet glowed brightly. Moving with difficulty towards where he last saw her, he heard her gasping for air.

Maeve jerked in surprise as she felt a hand encircle her wrist. Distantly she recognized the sailor, but her mind was not with him right now. Sinbad crushed her body to his in relief at having found her. The look of relief on his face morphed into one of complete surprise as his sorceress buried herself unconsciously into his arms, shuddering like she was freezing. And touching her skin, he realized that she was freezing. He didn't know what to say. So he held her closer, knowing instinctively that this was what she needed right now. So he held her as she fell apart.

She felt his warmth, but knew she didn't deserve it. She broke down. The floodgates opened. So long she had been forced to restrain herself, her emotions. Now she let them flow. She hated herself for the promise she made. Hated Scratch for tempting her into such an agreement. She cried for all the lost opportunities because she was always running away from the men she cared for. And she despised herself even more for having never cared for a single lover she'd ever had.

It was all part of her promise. They could have her in pieces, but never have her completely. And that was how she had lived, had survived for the past decade. Giving away pieces of herself until the whole wasn't even recognizable to herself anymore. She shuddered in disgust at herself. That was her promise. Her curse. Her choice. Her punishment. She felt a thousand emotions all at once. The wave thundered over her and pulled her down. She couldn't breath. She felt her world growing darker, and colder, she was letting go.

Deep brown eyes flashed through her mind. Poor Sweet Annachie her mind whispered seductively. She tried to fight it the moment the thought touched her mind, but she'd already lost control.

The smoke began to swirl violently around them as Maeve fought her mind, desperately trying to cling to another thought. Sinbad held onto her tightly, knowing that she was already caught up in another memory and not wanting to lose her again.

The visions swam by them now. A chaotic mess of memory and emotion all tangled together. They tore in and out of her memories without pausing as her mind struggled to focus.

Flashes

"_Annachie! Here, take this, for luck," the 13 year old pushed a red lock of hair into his palm, fingering the locks still attached to her head. The 21 year old smiled down at her, kissed her on the top of her pretty head and bid her farewell. Not quite what she had been hoping for. What's a girl gotta do to get this guys attention she thought to herself. _

Flashes

_-one year later-_

_She leaned in to kiss him._

"_Stop this foolishness!," Annachie spat at her as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her roughly against the Rowan Tree._

_Maeve stifled a sob as his fingers bit into her shoulders. Part of her was frightened by his anger, but the rest of her couldn't help but push back. "No!" She shouted back with as much force, "Not until you admit that you love me!" _

"_You're a child! What do you know of love?!" He shouted at her, exasperated. He released her and moved several feet away._

"_I AM NOT A CHILD!!" she shouted at his back, her anger rising to meet his own._

"_You're fourteen Maeve, you should be chasin' after boys yer own age! Not a man 8 years older! Ye think you're all grown up and ready for love but yer not! Ye don't even know what love is!" His words cut like knives._

Flashes

"…_I'm getting married," she told him quietly, her eyes full of tears. She noted his look of surprise. "At the end of the summer, to Vicar, the trader," she said between sobs. "I'm worth 4 pigs to him," She cried as the sobs began wracking her body again. It was some time before she could continue._

"_I thought that maybe, if I was wanted, that if someone…" she broke off sadly before continuing. "Maybe he would change his mind, and I wouldn't have to marry Vicar." She looked up at Annachie and saw tears brimming his own eyes. She couldn't take it anymore, she turned to run, but felt resistance. She felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind._

_She struggled violently against him as he held her from behind. "GO ALREADY!!" She screamed at him. The pain behind her eyes was becoming unbearable. Her legs gave out beneath her finally and she sunk her weight into his arms. Her vision swam with tears again for a moment as the sobs returned. "I know you don't want me, so just go…" she cracked brokenly. _

_It was then that she felt the tremble in his grip and it ran through his whole body._

_She stopped struggling when he whipped her around to face him again, his tortured eyes looking deep into her brown depths. He stared at her as his mind waged an internal war against himself. His breath was ragged and shallow as he backed her up against the Rowan again and rested his head in the crook of her neck. He did not release her from his grip. He exhaled deeply, the moisture from his breath whetting her neck, "You… are …. wanted," he struggled to speak. The long restrained emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "By the gods Maeve, you are wanted," he confessed to her. He gripped her tightly, never wanting to let go. Damn them all to hell if it was wrong, he wanted her._

Flashes

"_Run away with me!" _

"_Where would we go?" She was frightened by just the thought of leaving everything she had ever known, even if that world wasn't worth holding onto, it was all she knew._

"_It doesn't matter! Anywhere we want, you choose! I won't lose you to Vicar! He can't have you!! You belong with me," he breathed quietly into her ear, "Marry me." His words surprised both of them, but hers surprised them more._

"_Yes," she could hardly believe herself._

"_Yes?" He had to be sure he wasn't hearing things._

"_Yes," she said more firmly a grin plastered across her face._

Flashes

Sinbad gripped Maeve tightly as she shuddered violently under the strain of reliving her past. He had never seen her like this. His mind barely had time to register the events he was witnessing now until finally the barrage of memories slowed, and Sinbad was thankful. His stomach regained itself. Where were they now he wondered.

Looking around, he saw a clearing, and large looming stones. It was the dead of the night.

"The Standing Stones," Maeve whispered. She held her head in her hands and tried to keep her grounding as she felt a familiar tug. That insistent pull, dragging her in.

Sinbad didn't have a chance to ask her the significance of it as he saw her shade dancing around the stones happily. An attractive young man pursued her. The man from her fractured memories. Smiling, they passed their hands through the hole in the large centre stone. Sinbad was not well versed in Celtic custom, but he felt like he was witnessing something important to the two lovers. And although he thought he should be feeling jealous at the display of love, it warmed his heart to know that Maeve had once been free with her emotions. As he once had.

Suddenly he felt his head swimming. A sharp pain exploded behind his eyes and he fell to the ground. When he opened his eyes, he was staring into the eyes of the young man. He was seeing the past through Maeve's eyes again. Feeling what she felt, experiencing it with her.

"What have we here!" A voice boomed behind them.

The couple pulled themselves apart, twin looks of horror on their faces.

"I thought I told ye to stay away from her!!" Taldor shouted.

"Yer supposed to be takin' care o' my investment Taldor. Look at 'em. He's sullied her, I can tell," Vicar stated to his companion. The two sat upon large horses. Vicar dismounted, "I'll be takin' that with me," he said, referring to Maeve.

"I am not property!" she shouted while tugging at Annachie, trying to drag him away from the clearing, into the trees. They could run away together from here, never turn back. But Annachie pulled away from her, stepping forward for the confrontation. He put his hands out, palms up, submissive, showing that he was unarmed. "We don't want any trouble here. Let us be."

"What have ye got to offer? No land, no property, no assets! Ye can't have 'er fer nothin' ya know!" Her uncle shouted, "And you," he yelled at her, "yer worth so little already, ye can't afford to be caught foolin' with vagabonds like this one! Yer in love! HA! Well love won't put food on yer plate ya know!"

"I don't care," She shouted defiantely. "So we'll beg for bread in the streets, at least we'll be together!"

"Enough of this," Vicar yelled, "yer already promised to me!" He descended upon Maeve, grasping her around the waist he began to drag her towards his steed. Immediately Annachie moved to block his way, cutting Vicar off from his mount. "I won't let you take her," Annachie stated, bristling for the fight he knew would come.

From behind, Taldor sitting atop his horse still, gave a sharp kick to the back of Annachie's head. Unprepared for the assault, the young man dropped like a stone, to his knees, grasping the back of his head. Not missing a beat, Vicar dropped Maeve and crossed to the fallen boy, drawing his dagger, he slashed his throat in one swift move. Annachie was dead before his body hit the ground, but his shocked eyes never left Maeve's face.

Numb. That was all Sinbad felt. There was pain, shock, horror, and any number of anguished emotions hidden within. But the numbness was above all. A soft cushion creating a barrier between Maeve's mind and the violence she'd just witnessed. He closed his eyes but was forced to watch through hers anyway.

He heard the screams, and knew they were hers. She threw herself on the body of her love. His blood covered her hands and stained her dress. In her mind, his blood would never wash clean. Sinbad felt her guilt through the numbness. _It isn't your fault_, his mind whispered secretly to hers. But she would never hear him.

Vicar grabbed her again, but she was like a wildcat in his arms transformed by her pain and anguish. He could not hold her.

She snaked her way to the ground and took off like a bird on the wing. She tore through the forest blindly, letting her feet guide her. Branches lashed out and stung her face and arms, causing red angry welts. Twisted roots tripped her and rocks tore open her knees. But she hardly registered any of this. She found herself breaking through the forest at the back of her home.

Vicar and Taldor would be taking the trail back to the village, she had but moments to spare.

She flew into the house, bursting through Dermott's door. He lay sleeping. "Get up!" she shouted to him. Not waiting for him to respond, she picked him up and carried him from the room, setting him on the floor for a moment. She ignored his confused questions and sleepy gestures. Rushing past him she grabbed a blanket from her room, a change purse with barely enough money to buy them a crust of bread, and dragged her younger brother out the back door.

"Arlan!!" She called to him frantically as her eyes searched the darkness for him. He was there in an instant. She mounted him, drawing Dermott up in front of her. As Dermott finished settling himself, Vicar and Taldor could be seen rounding the bend towards their home at a comfortable gait. Upon seeing her both men urged their steeds into gallops . "Time to fly Arlan," she told the horse who responded in a heartbeat. Together, they raced away into the darkness of the forest. In time, the shouts of her uncle and betrothed would become distant sounds.

Sinbad took it all in from the prison of her mind. Suddenly, the pieces of the woman he knew as Maeve crystallized for him into a single being. The wheels in his mind slowed as he took in this new image. She had been a walking contradiction from the moment she boarded his ship. But suddenly he saw her with clarity. And he realized that she wasn't what she pretended to be. Wasn't the mask that they all saw.

Her anger, her cold demeanor, the secrets, the deceptions, the way she never let anyone get too close. The woman he knew was a carefully constructed façade, telling others to back off. It was her only defense against the pain she felt, still felt. The anguish, at losing so many loved ones. Her fear and insecurity that she was never enough, and would never be good enough. And the guilt that ate away at her soul telling her, that it was all her fault. And that somehow, she deserved it. His heart thumped erratically in his chest. He felt a burning pain, wondering how different things might have been for them if he had met her sooner. Before she had time to build her walls, before she hid behind her anger. Before she had given up on love.

For the first time, Sinbad realized that the only way out of this nightmare was for Maeve to face her demons, and let them go.

But how do you change a lifetime of thoughts? How do you erase the damage done years ago? How do you heal something that time itself was unable to heal?

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A/N: I love everyone who has reviewed so far. 51 reviews! You make me smile. I hope you all liked this bit enough to review again! As always... suggestions will be taken seriously... so if you're itchin to see something happen, let me know. I think it's safe to say that the rest will be fairly M/S oriented.

I'm trying to give their characters a bit of depth.. I mean, they're pretty 2D in the show. We don't really get to see much of what goes on in their heads. So I'm giving them both lots of insecurities, that they hide, because I think that was alluded to a few times in the shows. But I'm trying to keep the distinction between what is going on in their heads (about themselves and each other) separate from how they carry themselves (ie strong and confident). I've noticed the distinction slipping myself, probably why I didn't write this bit for so long. I'm tired of Maeve the victim lol. Don't worry, she's comin back strong!


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